WICKED MIND

WICKED-SERIES
BIANCA MOV
Copyright © 2023 by Bianca Mov
All rights reserved.
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www.bianca-movileanu.com
Cover: MiblArt
 Your mental health matters
You can find all the trigger warnings on my website:
www.bianca-movileanu.com
For all my good girls who fantasised about their dad’s best
friend
And all the bad ones who acted on it
 1

“A re you sure you want to publish another one of your

dirty little books?” I looked over my shoulder at my
two best friends, who were just sitting on my freshly
made bed, painting their nails. The warm afternoon sun lit up
the room and made Ramona’s dark red hair and olive skin
shine. As if in confirmation, I pressed send, submitting my
manuscript to my editor.
“It’s for a good cause,” I replied with a shrug, getting up
from my desk to put away my notebook and pens. I couldn’t
think clearly if it was messy around me and right now, I
needed a cool head.
Nikolai Hale, yes the Nikolai Hale, will be visiting my
father soon and I would be seeing him for the first time in
person.
He was my dad’s best friend and the secret star in my last
book. Since he mentioned Nikolai for the first time, I was
fascinated. I had spent countless nights gawking at press
photos of him like a crazy person, imagining what he would be
like in real life. Certainly a gentleman, charming and funny,
his billions not detracting from his beauty. Billions that he had
built up through his liquor empire. Pretty impressive.
Not that we were poor—on the contrary—but Nikolai Hale
took the word money to the next level. Of course, he didn’t
know about my secret profession; no one knew but my friends.
I was an author and my works were certainly not for the faint
of heart. I still remembered the shocked look on Blair’s face,
and she was never shocked, so it meant something. “You, of
all people, the sweet, nice Sienna, who never cursed a time in
her life, wrote such filth? I’m impressed,” my friend with the
inky black hair had said. That’s right, and there’s a new book
coming out in a few weeks.
My eyes wandered around the room in search of the proper
hiding place for the notes I had written for book two of my
“Dad’s Best Friend Series” and the evidence that showed how
I thirsted for Nikolai. I was pathetic. Yes, utterly pathetic.
I sighed and forced myself to focus. The walls were
painted a soft, creamy white that made the room glow like a
pearl when sunlight poured through the windows. The wooden
floorboards creaked softly under my feet, and the air smelled
like orange blossom and freshly cut grass.
Against one wall stood my bed—a fluffy cloud of a thing
with crisp, white sheets and a pale-yellow duvet cover. Next to
it was a bookshelf decorated with the most beautiful editions
this world has ever seen. My self-written books were
discreetly hidden behind them. I wanted to have my babies
with me, but I couldn’t display them as openly as I would have
liked to.
Opposite the bed, a large window offered a panoramic
view of the rolling hills in the distance. It was draped in
translucent curtains, which billowed gently in the warm breeze
that drifted in from outside.
In the corner of the room, there was a small writing desk,
where I spent countless hours pouring my heart and soul onto
the electronic pages. The desk was cluttered with trinkets from
my travels and some bits and pieces I got from elderly
neighbours who I sometimes checked on.
On the walls, there were several pictures of me, Ramona
and Blair. In one, we were huddled together on a windswept
beach, our hair wild and our laughter echoing across the sand.
In another, we were grinning widely, arms linked, in front of
the Eiffel Tower.
With long strides, I crossed the room and hid my things in
the far corner of my closet. My father would hardly dig around
there. Not that he cared what I did in my spare time. Or ever.
“Nikolai will be pretty pissed,” Ramona quipped.
“Good thing he’ll never know. Besides, the main character
can be any man,” I replied with my sweetest smile. Lies and
secrets were never my thing. Ramona always said that every
scheme was written all over my face. But as soon as Nikolai
would cross our doorstep, that had to change.
“You haven’t even bothered to alter the birthmarks, Si.”
Romona pressed her lips together and her hazel eyes shone full
of suppressed laughter.
Well, she was right. There wasn’t much source material of
Nikolai’s body. Just one picture to be exact, taken on the beach
by a paparazzi. Still, I ate it up like it was my last meal and
based my whole creativity on one shirtless picture. But God,
that picture was good.
I joined them and the bed squeaked with our cumulative
weight, my summer dress with yellow flowers uncomfortable
against my skin.
“Can we drop the subject of Nikolai Hale for a minute and
focus on why you’re here in the first place?” Blair rolled her
eyes and tapped her chin with a long black-painted nail.
“Summer has started and we need to plan our trip to France.
The festival is in a few weeks.”
We would have a girls’ weekend on the Côte d’Azur since
one of our favourite bands was going to perform there. No
way I would ever miss that. They’ve almost never been to
Europe, and we had to make the most of this opportunity.
Ramona had just finished high school and wanted to
experience something before college. Blair… Well, she was
already living on her own and her mother was fine with giving
her money to keep her at arm’s length. Another thing we had
in common.
Only that with me, it was my father.
 2

I stood by the kitchen island, feeling the smooth surface of

the marble countertop beneath my fingertips. The sound of
the mixer filled the room, its rhythmic hum like a soothing
melody. I wore my favourite apron—a blue one with a floral
pattern that reminded me of my grandmother’s garden. The
scent of vanilla and butter wafted through the air, making my
mouth water in anticipation.
As I mixed the ingredients together, I couldn’t help but feel
a sense of calm wash over me. Baking had always been a form
of therapy; a way to escape the chaos of everyday life. The
warmth of the oven radiated against my shins, and the sound
of the timer ticking into place was like a signal that everything
was going to be okay.
Looking around the room, I took in the beauty of my
surroundings. The large windows allowed the sunlight to flood
in, illuminating everything in a soft, warm glow. The flowers
on the windowsill danced in the gentle breeze, their colours
vibrant against the pale walls.
Beyond the kitchen, I could see into the living room,
which was modern in design with cool grey tones that
contrasted with the warmth of the kitchen. The couch was a
deep, plush velvet—the kind you sink into and never want to
leave. A few throw pillows were scattered about, each one
carefully chosen to complement the room. It was like stepping
into a magazine.
 We didn’t have family pictures on the walls like normal
people. One of the main reasons was that I was never home,
always pushed from one European boarding school to another.
But it was okay.
I finished mixing the dough, and as I scooped it onto the
baking sheet and prepared for another round, trying to
concentrate on the task at hand as the sound of my father’s
footsteps grew louder. He entered the room, his presence
filling the space around me, and I couldn’t help but tense up.
“Hey, Dad,” I greeted him with my brightest smile. His
presence always made me uneasy, and I tried my best to hide
it.
He returned the greeting, avoiding my gaze and walking
past me to grab a glass of water. It was always like this with
him, as if he didn’t know how to handle a daughter, as if he
felt awkward in my presence. I couldn’t help but feel like an
intrusion in his life, an unwelcome guest that he couldn’t quite
shake off. I was selfish for only thinking about my feelings,
but his manners hurt me nonetheless.
My dad smelled of fresh cologne, the scent mingling with
the smell of cookies baking in the oven. His already greying
hair was dishevelled, his skin pale and he had dark circles
under his eyes. He was tall and well-built, with a carefully
trimmed beard that only accentuated the tired lines around his
eyes.
I tried to push away the feeling of disappointment that
always settled in my chest whenever I saw him like this.
Instead, I focused on the sound of the oven timer, the rhythmic
thump of my heart, and the warm, buttery smell of the cookies.
As a chronic people pleaser, I couldn’t help but want to
make him feel at home, to make him see that he belonged here
with me. But I knew better than to force him into conversation,
to ask him how his day had been. Instead, I continued to work
on his favourite sweets, the gentle hum of the kitchen
appliances filling the silence between us.
His voice was a sound I had nearly forgotten, a rarity that
made me feel as if time had stood still. The question was
simple, but it felt loaded with the weight of our broken
relationship. “How was your flight?” he asked, and I struggled
to keep my composure.
“Exhausting,” I brought out, looking over my shoulder in
his direction, but he had his back turned to me, his gaze fixed
on our garden. “The kid beside me was crying the whole
time.” He snorted in amusement.
“Well, kids have the tendency to do that.” Did I cry much,
I wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to put him in an awkward
position. He didn’t know if I had.
My parents had been teenagers when they had me,
penniless and with no support. But they decided to keep me, to
love me, even when the world was against them. Simply
because they worshipped each other. And yet it was not
enough.
My mother died in childbirth—too many complications. I
killed her. And my father has not forgiven me. Even now. It
was as if the light had gone out in his eyes, and he couldn’t
bear to look at me for more than a few moments. He saw her
in me, in every detail of my face, and it only reminded him of
what he had lost. I understood him. I let him. Because every
time he looked at my face, he saw my mother, he saw what
was taken from him. I was the perfect image of her: blond
wavy hair, light blue eyes, heart-shaped face. Even our smiles
were the same. Maybe our personalities were too. I didn’t
know. They never talked about her. I only knew her shell.
For years, he threw himself into work, built up his own
cyber security company and instead of sending me to
elementary school, I was shipped off to a boarding school in
Belgium. I was told it was for my own good, but I knew the
truth. My father couldn’t bear to be near me.
Later, I spent some years in Switzerland, but returned to
Belgium for my studies. It was a piece of my homeland and I
loved it perhaps even a little more than England.
Now, I had only a few months left before starting my
Master’s at Oxford and I was sure I wouldn’t miss my life
overseas. My childhood friends were here. Ramona, Blair and
I had spent every summer together. That was the only time my
father encouraged me to come home. Well, sometimes I came
for Christmas too, and every International Women’s Day he
had sent me a card. That was always very thoughtful of him.
I knew he loved me. At least in his own broken way.
Maybe he just couldn’t give me more. And if that was all he
had, then how could I possibly be ungrateful? How could I
demand more?
A shrill noise brought me out of my thoughts and I took
the cookies out of the oven. Perfect as always.
I looked to the left, but my father was long gone.
 3

I buckled up and started the car, the sound of the engine

breaking the stillness, and as I drove out onto the main
road, the world around me shifted. The narrow streets and
rows of houses gave way to sprawling fields, the sun beating
down upon the green expanse with a fierce intensity. The
warmth of the day seeped in through the open windows, the
breeze carrying the scent of freshly mowed grass.
As I drove through the suburb, I saw row after row of
identical houses with neatly trimmed lawns, hedges and flower
beds or the occasional car parked by the side of the road, with
children on bicycles or mothers pushing prams. People walked
their dogs, neighbours chatted over fences, and the sound of
laughing filled the air. The world seemed at peace in this
idyllic setting, as if the worries and stresses of the outside
world could not penetrate this bubble of contentment.
The radio played soft, familiar tunes in the background,
blending perfectly with the peaceful scene outside my car. I
rolled down my window even more, letting the warm breeze
caress my face, bringing with it the scent of freshly bloomed
flowers.
The road stretched out before me, an endless ribbon of
black, guiding me to the place I was needed most—the animal
shelter I worked as a volunteer during the summer.
As I approached my destination, my phone rang. Looking
at the display, I sighed, knowing it was unlikely to be an
emergency, but I answered anyway, putting the call on speaker.
“Hi, Mrs. Martinez,” I said. “What’s going on?”
“Well, hello, Sienna, dear. I’m sorry to bother you, but my
Wi-Fi has gone all wonky again. You’re the only one who
knows how to fix it.” Mrs. Martinez’s voice was crackly and
high-pitched, and I couldn’t help but smile. She was always
calling me to fix her Wi-Fi, even though I had shown her how
to do it countless times before. I even made her a foolproof
step-by-step list.
I chuckled softly. “Of course, I’ll be happy to come by
after my shift. By the way, do you need any groceries while
I’m out?” She was quite old and had no close relatives to care
for her. It didn’t hurt to help her out a little.
“Oh, you’re such a dear, Sienna. Actually, now that you
mention it, I could use a few things. Let me get my list.” I
heard shuffling in the background and Mrs. Martinez
proceeded to rattle off a rather long list of groceries. It sure
looked like I was going to do her weekly shopping instead of
picking up some toilet paper and bread.
“Okay, I’ll see you in a few hours and we’ll fix that pesky
Wi-Fi once and for all,” I replied.
“Oh, thank you. You’re such a godsend. I don’t know what
I’d do without you,” she replied, and we said our goodbyes.
Helping others was one of my favourite things to do, and
knowing that I could make Mrs. Martinez’s day just a little bit
easier brought a warm feeling to my heart.
The animal shelter came into view and I took a left turn.
The sight of it made my heart sink, the once vibrant paint on
the facade now faded and peeling, revealing the rough
brickwork beneath. Cracks ran along the walls like wrinkles,
telling stories of neglect and time’s cruel hand.
With a heavy sigh, I turned off the engine and stepped out
of the car, tugging on my white T-shirt and light jeans, wind
whipping through my hair.
I walked closer, my footsteps crunching on the gravel path
that led to the entrance. The grass on either side had grown
long and unkempt, a sharp contrast to the bright flowerbeds I
remembered from years ago.
As I pushed open the door, a glimmer of hope shone
through the dimness. The interior was kept in bright colours,
one, two volunteers scurrying about with a sense of purpose. I
caught a glimpse of a golden retriever, its tail wagging eagerly
at the sight of me, as if grateful for the smallest bit of
attention.
Despite the rundown exterior, the shelter was a beacon of
light for those who sought to heal the broken, to give voice to
the voiceless. And in that moment, I knew I had come home.
I made my way to the staff room, my sneakers squeaking
on the light grey linoleum. Somehow, nothing had changed
and yet everything seemed new, worse.
Only a few moments later, the door opened again, and a
short lady with dark skin and grey hair walked in with a grim
face. When her eyes fell on me, her gaze took on something
warm.
We both put our bags in our lockers and I couldn’t help but
notice the pictures on the wall of the adopted animals, the
paintings of children with their furry friends. It all felt like a
distant memory.
Clara broke the silence. “It’s so good to have you back,
Sienna. We’ve missed you around here.”
“Oh, I’ve missed you too; truly,” I replied, but my voice
was laced with sadness.
“I wish it was under better circumstances, though,” she
sighed and waved around the room. “We’re struggling to keep
the shelter open. Donations have been drying up, and we can
barely afford to keep the lights on. You saw how the shelter
looks from outside. Unless a miracle happens in the next few
weeks, there is nothing we can do.”
I could feel my heart sink as I realised how dire the
situation was. “I had no idea it was this bad. What can I do to
help?” I asked.
 Clara’s face lit up. “Anything you can do would be a huge
help. Even just spreading the word and getting people to come
and adopt would be a great start. We need all the help we can
get if we’re going to keep the shelter open.”
I had already donated my earnings from my books, bought
food and meds, but all that had been just a drop in the bucket.
Some pennies from a small independent author weren’t going
to save the shelter, I knew that.
“I’ll do everything I can. I’ll work harder.” I gave my
colleague a reassuring smile, and she exhaled in relief.
“I knew we could count on you. You’ve always been such
a big help to us, Sienna. It means the world to me.”
I squeezed her shoulder and turned away to close my
locker. Work harder, I could do that. Just write faster, right? If
it only were that easy. But I had no choice. These people, and
above all, the animals, depended on me.

A S I SAT cross-legged on the floor, the cold tiles freezing my

butt off. A tiny ball of fluff with only one eye nuzzled up
against me. Her fur was matted, and she looked so frail and
delicate I was afraid to hold her too tightly. I whispered to her,
trying to soothe her, and she looked up at me with her one
good eye, her head tilting to the side.
“You’re going to be okay,” I whispered. “I promise.” My
heart ached for the little kitten, so vulnerable and helpless. She
was so tiny that I could feel every breath she took, every little
movement she made.
The room was quiet except for the sound of the kitten’s
soft purring. I closed my eyes and let the rhythm wash over
me, feeling as if I was in a world of my own. I could almost
forget the outside world, with its worries and heartbreaks.
But the reality of the situation soon hit me again. The
kitten wouldn’t eat, and her health was declining rapidly. If
something didn’t change soon, she wouldn’t have a chance of
survival.
I hugged her gently, feeling her fragile body in my arms.
“Hang in there, little one,” I murmured.
In the background, I heard hurried footsteps, the rustling of
paper, or annoyed groans. I knew the others were stressed, that
this shelter was probably getting on their last nerve, but their
negativity wouldn’t improve our situation either.
I patted the now sleeping kitten’s back one last time and
placed her in the makeshift bed, away from the other animals.
With stiff legs and a heavy heart, I left the room and made
my way to the dog kennels; if you could even call them that.
We had a dog here that just couldn’t find a home. Again
and again, he was adopted and brought back after a few weeks.
By now, he was so old that his chances of finding a new
family were slim. People preferred to have a sweet little puppy
instead of investing energy and time in a dog that had
obviously been through a lot.
Most of them underestimated the animals and their temper
and came back angry to accuse us of having given them an
aggressive one. I snorted with disdain. Some people just
weren’t made for animals, didn’t deserve them.
Cooper was one of our regulars, as we called the animals
that kept coming back. As I turned the corner and he
recognized me, the German Shepherd straightened up to his
full size and wagged his tail, his tongue sticking out.
“Did you miss me, Cooper?” I asked in a strange baby
voice as I slipped into the kennel and handed him some treats.
As if to reassure me, he nuzzled his head against my thigh.
“He was just brought back last week,” someone murmured
out of my sight, and I bit my lower lip.
“They didn’t deserve you,” I finally said, and he howled,
nearly making my heart stop.
“Can you make yourself useful for once instead of
agitating the animals all day, blondie?” another volunteer
asked, annoyed. He was new here. At least I had never seen
him before. “If you’re just here to gawk at the dogs, I’d be
happy to gift you a magazine.” I clenched my hands into fists,
irritated at his harsh tone.
“Shut up, Steven, or I’ll castrate you like the dog earlier
this day,” another voice, probably Susie’s, rang out from the
distance.
My eyes drifted back to Cooper, and I exhaled slowly,
putting on my sweetest smile and walking out of the kennel.
“Be right there,” I called out, forcing a cheerful tone into
my voice, leaving our regular behind.

A S MY SHIFT was coming to an end, a lady walked in, her

heels clicking on the tiled floor. She wore a black dress that
reached her knees, a string of pearls around her neck. Her hair
was perfectly coiffed, and she carried herself with a haughty
air.
“I want to adopt a dog for my son,” she said, looking down
at the boy who didn’t pay us any attention. “He’s been asking
for one for weeks, and I finally caved.”
I bit my tongue to stop myself from rolling my eyes. How
many times had I seen this before? Parents giving in to their
children’s demands, without any thought for the
responsibilities of owning a pet.
“Of course, let me show you some who can’t wait for a
new home,” I said, leading her to the kennels. “We have some
very friendly ones that are great with kids.”
The mother barely glanced at the dogs wagging their tails
in pure anticipation. Instead, she scrolled through her phone as
I showed her around. The boy, meanwhile, barely looked up
from his tablet, lost in his own little world of video games.
“I don’t think any of these are quite right,” the mother said,
finally looking up. “Do you have smaller ones?”
 I resisted the urge to snap at her, and instead nodded
politely. “We do have some puppies in the back, but they’re
not quite ready for adoption yet. We need to make sure they’re
healthy and have received all their vaccinations.” Her boy
rolled his eyes, tapping violently on the broken screen.
“Well, can we see them anyway?” the mother asked, a hint
of annoyance creeping into her voice.
I hesitated, but then nodded. “I’ll have to check with my
supervisor, but I’ll see what I can do.”
As I walked away, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of
frustration. This woman seemed to think that getting a puppy
was like buying a new accessory, without any regard for the
well-being of the animal. And now she wanted to see the
puppies that weren’t even ready yet.
I sighed, wondering what had happened to people’s sense
of responsibility.
Five minutes later, I returned with a rather annoyed Clara,
her hair in a high ponytail.
“You can’t see the puppies. Why are you still arguing
around?” she asked harshly. The woman tilted her head,
irritated.
I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt, but finally intervened
before the situation would escalate.
“I’m terribly sorry you drove here for nothing.” I gave her
my most charming smile. “Of course, we’d be delighted if
you’d come by again in a few weeks. I’m sure you’ll get the
chance to see the puppies then.” Her kid was unimpressed with
my attempts to calm his mother.
“This is a farce. Do you even know who I—“ Before she
could finish the sentence, our front door slammed so loudly
that I winced.
A man stormed into the shelter, his loud voice echoing
through the hallway.
“What the hell is wrong with this dog?” he yelled, jerking
the poor Labrador’s leash.
 My heart raced, and I could feel the anxiety building inside
me. Clara stepped forward, trying to calm the situation. “Sir,
please lower your voice. What’s the problem?” He scoffed and
the snobby lady grabbed her son by the sleeve, pulling him
towards the door where they disappeared without a thank you.
“The problem? The problem is that I got a damn mad dog.
This thing almost bit off my hand,” he shouted, thrusting his
bandaged fingers in our faces.
I tried to intervene again. God, how I hated these conflicts.
“Sir, we’re sorry to hear that. Can you tell us what happened?”
“What happened? I’ll tell you what happened! This dog is
a menace. He’s completely untrainable!” he spat.
Clara tried to reason with him. “Sir, aggression in dogs can
often be the result of improper training and handling. Perhaps
we can discuss some training options to help you and your
dog.”
But the man wasn’t having it. He continued to shout and
berate us, and I could see the frightened look in the dog’s eyes.
“I did everything right, but you gave me a beast. It’s all
your fault,” the man continued, stepping closer.
My heart ached for the dog, clearly traumatised by his
aggressive master.
“Okay, you’re right, it’s my fault. I made a mistake but
please, sir, can you calm down? You’re scaring the dog.” Clara
shot me a disbelieving look. “I’ll take full responsibility for
what happened. Just give me the leash.”
His threatening tone frightened the animal even more and
if I could help the poor thing by taking the blame, then so be
it. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t even in England a few days
ago.
“Fine, take the damn thing off my back and be glad I’m
not suing you,” he snarled.
Clara wrinkled her nose, ready to let fists fly, but I stopped
her at the last second before she could do anything stupid.
 “That’s very generous of you. Thank you very much, sir.
Such a mistake will not happen again.”
He looked back and forth between us, weighing whether
he should say anything else, but finally dropped the leash and
stormed out of the building. It wasn’t until he was long gone
and the Labrador was well taken care of that I could breathe
again.
“Grow a spine, girl,” Clara muttered disapprovingly. I just
shrugged my shoulders.
“He needed to blow off steam.” She snorted.
“And you were his punching bag?” My colleague shook
her head.
“Everyone has a bad day,” I replied as I packed up the last
of my things. Clara shook her head.
“You’re too nice, Sienna. You have the right to get upset.
You can’t please everyone. Gosh, think about your feelings for
once.” I rolled my eyes, not understanding the meaning behind
her monologue.
“I think about my feelings, and I feel best when I’m kind.
Easy.”
We left the shelter together, the horizon already bathed in
black.
“Your kindness will get you killed.” With those words, she
stepped into her car and gave me one last wave.
But my kindness is all I have.
 4

I wandered through the sea of people at the flea market, the

warmth of the sun caressing my far too pale skin. The
bustle of the crowd was like music to my ears, the hum of
voices mixing with the sound of vendors hawking their wares.
My denim skirt swished around my legs as I strolled from
booth to booth, my beaded necklace catching the light.
The vendors were selling everything from vintage clothing
to handmade pottery, and I couldn’t resist stopping at each one
to browse. My eyes feasted on the colours and textures, my
fingers trailing over the soft fabrics.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a little girl standing by
someone who seemed to be her older sister, negotiating better
than anyone I knew. Her serious expression scared off anyone
who tried to rip her off, and I chuckled as an older lady
stomped away indignantly.
As I made my way through the market, I saw a man
playing a guitar, his fingers moving nimbly over the strings.
The sound of the music carried on the wind, mingling with the
chatter of the crowd.
Despite the lively atmosphere, I couldn’t shake the
exhaustion that had settled into my bones after a long day at
the shelter and a night shift at Mrs. Martinez’s. Thank God,
only the cable to the router was plugged in incorrectly, but she
so rarely had anyone to talk to that I couldn’t just leave. Now,
as I walked through the market, my steps felt heavier with
each passing moment.
 I pushed through, determined to find the perfect gifts for
my friends. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to buy them
something cute back in Belgium, but the good intentions
count, right?
I smiled as I examined a colourful display of handmade
bracelets, each one glinting in the sun. The guy behind the art
was looking at me intently and I met his gaze, asking about the
price and handing him the money. Two bracelets—one dark
red, one of the deepest black. Perfect.
Just as I was about to put the jewellery away, my phone
vibrated, and I opened the group chat.
 Blair:

Guess who was spotted in London. Hint: It’s

Nikolai Hale.
 Ramona:

Our future brother-in-law is here?

Blair sent us a link from a gossip magazine article and I read

the headline.
Hottest bachelor spotted at London’s airport. Will he
finally find his better half this summer? We will keep you
updated.
Nikolai Hale already in London? So soon? Dozens of
questions ran through my head, but my thoughts were
interrupted by a new message.
 Blair:

Time to blow some of the pent-up steam you

have, Si.
Sienna:

I’m not that desperate.

 Ramona:

Yes, you are. Bet you have a picture of him under

your pillow. Doing dirty things with it before falling
asleep.
 Ramona:

-Picture-

That witch had photoshopped my face onto that of his alleged

ex-girlfriend while they were sitting together in a bar. I looked
like I was having a seizure, head way too big for her body. My
hair was put into a bun, so my head looked like an egg floating
in space. The proportions were more than insulting.
 Sienna:

So funny, guys.

Roll, I pocketed my phone. No, I didn’t care in the least that

Nikolai Hale was in England. I even preferred him to stay as
far away from me and my laptop as possible. He was my dad’s
best friend and if he ever found out about the messed up
stories I had written undercover, I would never be able to face
them again.

I stood in the kitchen, wearing my favourite pink satin

pyjamas and focused on the task at hand. I loved making
candles, it was, after baking, the one thing that always seemed
to calm me down, even on the most stressful days.
The darkness outside had already enveloped the world, and
the moon shone bright in the sky, casting an eerie glow
through the kitchen window, as I continued to mix the
essential oils together. I added a hint of lavender, hoping it
would help my father sleep better. He has had trouble with that
since… Well, since forever.
Not that he would use my candles. He never had. But still,
I kept trying, always hoping that one day, he would thank me,
acknowledge me. As I poured the melted wax into the jar, I
couldn’t help but wonder if he even knew how much I cared,
how much I loved him. Despite everything. I loved him, and
he always found new ways to push me away.
In my darkest moments, I hated my mother for dying,
because she took my father with her. Only his body remained,
wandering on earth; his soul was with her, wherever she might
be.
I was an orphan.
 5
NIKOLAI

A nnoyed, I slammed the driver’s door shut. It wasn’t

enough that I had the jet lag of my life, no, I had almost
run over a group of teenagers. Fuck my life. I hadn’t
missed the English roads. I hadn’t missed a lot of things, to be
honest, especially the countryside.
But when Christopher had reached out and asked me for
the biggest favour of my life, I could never say no. He was the
brother I never had, my oldest friend.
It broke my heart that I couldn’t do anything for him, but
he still wanted to see me this summer. And I had come.
Because he needed me more than ever.
Before I could think any further about why I was here, the
front door opened, and I took a step closer. He hadn’t changed;
maybe grew some white hairs around his face, but that was it.
“Finally. What took you so long?” he asked, feigning
annoyance. I climbed the few porch steps and pulled him in,
holding him so tightly against my chest that it almost hurt. I
was not the person for hugs, emotional expressions, and all
that kind of shit. On the contrary. I hated it. Emotions made
you weak and there was nothing more pathetic. But in that
moment, I didn’t care.
“I hate you, you bastard,” I spat back at him. “Why are you
doing this to me?” I felt his chest vibrate, and he tore away
from me.
“You’re still the self-centred asshole you were back then.
The only difference is that you wear way too expensive suits
now.” I snorted.
“Yes. But you’re not the lowlife leech anymore.” I let out a
whistle as I looked more insistently at the front yard. He and
Jade had been more than short of cash in their youth, living in
her mother’s basement and only eating canned food.
We had always teased Jade that Christopher must have put
some kind of spell on her. That had to be the reason why she
put up with him. But secretly, everyone knew that the two of
them were made for each other.
Now, Christopher had made it big. And we were a pretty
good team when he hacked into my enemies’ databases while I
showered him with money. Thanks to him, I had more
blackmail material than I would ever need in my life.
We passed through the hallway, a disgusting lavender
smell in the air that made my head pound. The walls in the
living room were high, the design minimalist. It looked almost
too cold for a family. But what did I know?
“Want some coffee?” Chris asked as he turned on the TV
like he always did. Supposedly, it made him feel less alone or
something like that.
I nodded and he went into the kitchen. Fatigue had a tight
grip on me, but I couldn’t help but check my emails. I didn’t
have an ounce of faith in my employees and lived by the
motto, if you want it done right, do it yourself. Dozens of
messages loaded before my eyes and I rubbed my temples. I
deleted the interview requests without giving them a second
thought, but there were a few I couldn’t ignore so easily.
I took off my jacket and laid it neatly over the armrest. Just
as I was about to send a new email, my friend’s voice snapped
me out of my thoughts.
“You’re on vacation. Can’t it wait?” I rolled my eyes.
“I’m never on vacation, you know that.” Chris snorted and
set the coffee on the glass table in front of us.
“Things are going pretty well for you. It’s not like you
can’t take some time off.” I didn’t return his smile, thinking
only about the shit ton of work that would await me back
home in New York.
I was the founder of the Hale Empire, owned what was
currently the best-selling alcohol brand in all of North
America. That had led to buying clubs, bars, pubs and
brothels. You name it. Not that I was a pimp. I left the dirty
work exclusively to others, staying behind the scenes. It was
safer that way.
“Now let’s cut the bullshit and tell me why I’m here. You
know I can’t give you what you need. I would have done it,
gladly so, you are like a brother to me, but it’s not possible.”
He sighed, “Yeah, I know. It’s just… I want someone by
my side, you know?” My face fell. That bastard. He seriously
wanted—
My thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of his phone
and I averted my gaze, unable to look him in the eye.
Christopher excused himself. His footsteps echoed in the
room before he finally disappeared behind a door and picked
up.
I had to get out, had to leave. But what kind of asshole
would that make me? With an annoyed groan, I got up and
went to the bathroom. Cold water would do the trick. My legs
guided me as if on their own to the first floor, where the
bathroom probably was.
I didn’t understand why people always dumped their
bullshit on me, why they couldn’t handle it on their own. I
wasn’t made for this emotional circus, but people tried it over
and over again. And then they were disappointed that I wasn’t
the person they needed.
The white-painted wooden railing felt cool under my
heated skin and I was already looking forward to going back to
the hotel room. Just before I was about to turn left, a slightly
open door caught my eye.
I took a step closer and spotted a bookshelf, the covers so
bright it hurt my eyes. Normally, it wasn’t my style to dig
through other people’s things—well, people who weren’t my
competitors—but my gut urged me to have a look.
I opened the door wider and stepped inside, the faint smell
of Chanel Gabrielle in the air. Unfortunately, I knew that
perfume all too well since a saleswoman had sprayed it in my
face once. I had her fired, of course.
I ran my finger over the spine of one of the books and
almost had to laugh at its title. Who came up with something
so idiotic? Shaking my head, I took it from the shelf and
flipped through it. Eventually, I lost the minimal interest I had
anyway and was about to slide it back into place when I
spotted another book behind it.
It was hidden, surrounded by the others, so no one would
find it so quickly. My curiosity was piqued, and I took it out,
smirking at the title. The cover didn’t look quite as hideous as
the others, thankfully, so I read through the short blurb. Dad’s
best friend? I almost laughed out loud. What kind of bullshit
was that?
Amused, I flipped it open and read the first few pages
while pacing restlessly up and down the room. Creative, I had
to give the author that.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw some photos and had to
look again, thinking I had seen a ghost. Jade… No, not Jade,
her daughter. She looked just like her mother—full, rosy lips,
blue eyes, the colour so bright it almost looked unnatural, long
blonde hair, and a smile that could bring a man to his knees.

I HAD NEVER SEEN Sienna in person, was hardly ever in

England, and she had spent most of her life abroad. No idea
why she wasn’t messed up, or maybe she was, deep under her
facade.
Something in her expression kept me glued to the spot, and
I had to force myself to look away.
Only now did I remember the book in my hand. Such a
wicked mind… If only her father knew what kind of books she
had at home. My lips formed into a smirk and, without
thinking about it, I pocketed it and went back downstairs. I’m
sure Sienna wouldn’t mind if I read more about her interests.
I had hidden the book under my jacket just in time before
Chris came back into the living room with a serious expression
on his face.
“All right, I’ll stay for a while. I think my time here might
become quite interesting.” I saw his expression change from
confused to grateful. A stab went through my chest, but I
grudgingly returned his smile.
“Thank you.”
 6

I woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside my

window, but couldn’t appreciate the beauty of the morning.
My eyes felt way too heavy, and my head was pounding, a
side effect of yesterday’s very long shopping spree with Blair
where we may or may not have had some drinks afterwards.
My hair was a wild tangle of knots, a testament to the restless
sleep I had gotten, and I cursed myself for forgetting to put it
in a ponytail before going to sleep.
As I dragged myself out of bed, I stumbled towards the
bathroom, the marble tiles beneath my feet providing some
much-needed relief. I splashed some water on my face, trying
to wake myself up, but it didn’t help. I reached for my
toothbrush and started brushing my teeth, the sound of the
bristles echoing in the small room.
Suddenly, I heard the front door open and shut again,
causing my heart to skip a beat. Probably dad, I thought, but
something about the way the door had been closed told
another story. I hesitated for a moment, trying to gather my
thoughts, and then made my way towards the stairs.
As I approached the entrance area, I could hear the faint
sound of footsteps coming from the living room. The scent of
sandalwood and something fresh filled my nostrils, and my gut
told me who it was even before I saw him. Nikolai Hale was
standing in my living room, looking seductive as sin.
He wore a suit darker than the night itself, his white shirt
tight around his chest. His inky black hair was perfectly styled,
and his hazel eyes flashed with something I couldn’t name.
Curiosity?
Nikolai’s gaze travelled from my face down to my
slippers. Only now did I notice I was still wearing my
pyjamas, the silk shorts much too short for visitors. Damn. I
felt a slight blush creep up my cheeks.
My heart was racing, palms sweaty, mind spinning around
a thousand thoughts at once.
“Hi, Sienna,” he said, his voice deep and not as charming
as I thought. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Like a
fool, I just shook my head, but couldn’t get anything out. From
up close, his face looked even more striking, his upper lip a
little fuller than the lower one. My eyes lingered on his high,
sharp cheekbones and I was sure he could cut glass with them.
An awkward pause arose before he finally continued, “You
probably want to change, right?” His eyes wandered to the gap
between my shorts and my top and I crossed my arms
protectively.
We stood there in silence for a moment, the tension
palpable. But not in a good way, no. I could feel my heart
pounding in my chest as Nikolai took a step closer, his eyes
locking onto mine. I felt a shiver run down my spine as a fresh
wave of his cologne crept up my nose. At that moment, I knew
I was in deep trouble.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” he continued to
speak, more annoyed, while he was dragging out every word
as if I were brain-dead. Rude.
“What are you doing here?” I blurted out, my tone
snappier than I had intended. He raised an eyebrow.
“Is that any way to greet your guests?” Nikolai’s lips
twisted into a wry smile that didn’t look charming at all.
“No, it’s not like that,” I stammered, “It’s just I wasn’t
expecting you today, that’s all.” He sat down on the couch, his
stride exuding pure elegance.
“So you were expecting me on other days?” I could hear
the sarcasm in his voice. He was trying to tick me off.
 Just as I was about to utter something snarky, he pulled out
a book from his jacket pocket. My book. What? No. No. That
couldn’t be possible, it—.
“Interesting reads you have up there. I’m almost
impressed.” At that moment, I wished claws from the
underworld would latch onto my feet and pull me deep with
them, just so I wouldn’t have to face him.
I could have said so many things, could have talked my
way out of it, but instead, I just replied, “You were in my
room?” My voice sounded hoarse, tortured. Like a dying horse
that should best be given the coup de grâce. Yes, that would be
fitting.
He clicked his tongue. “The story sounds very intriguing,
not to mention the characters…” A diabolical smile crossed
his lips, and I instinctively took a step back.
“It’s just a book,” I tried to placate.
“Is it?” He tilted his head to the side and regarded me like
a hunter would his prey.
“Yes. And now I’d like to have it back.” I sounded
nowhere near as confident as I wanted to.
He licked his teeth and held it out to me.
“You can have it. I’ve already finished reading it.” The
blood in my veins froze. The whole thing in one night? Hell
no, all the sex scenes….
With trembling fingers, I reached for the book as if I were
tearing meat from a lion’s claws. He’s just a man, Sienna, get a
grip.
“Um, thanks.” I nodded.
“Oh, I have to say thank you. It’s not often you read such
filthy things about yourself. And your pen name…clever. But
not clever enough.” My jaw dropped.
“It’s not about you,” I spat back at him, and Nikolai gave
me a knowing look.
 “Of course not.” He brushed an invisible speck of dust
from his slacks and I turned to go, my legs stiff. “And
Sienna?” Reluctantly, I spun around and looked at him
questioningly. “Take it off the Internet.” His tone told me I
didn’t want to know the consequences if I disobeyed.
Wordlessly, I turned my back on him and walked away,
leaving him on his own.
In my room, I threw myself onto the unmade bed and
screamed so loudly into the pillow I thought my vocal cords
would snap.
 7

T ime just did not pass, and I knew that at that very
moment, Nikolai was in the living room with my father.
I could hear their laughter all the way upstairs and it
went like a stab through my chest to think that my father had
never laughed with me like that. Damn Nikolai with his damn
hair and his damn words. He was nothing like I had imagined,
almost the complete opposite. There was nothing charming
about him, nothing warm.
My eyes fell on the clock, and I startled up; surely I would
be late for my shift at the shelter. Oh, Clara is going to kill me,
I thought to myself.
I walked over to my closet and picked out my outfit. It was
a bit chilly, so with this in mind, I reached for a pair of faded
blue jeans, perfectly worn from years of use.
Next, my fingers delicately grazed over the soft fabric of a
light, white hoodie. Its simplicity was comforting, yet the way
it draped over my body was undeniably flattering.
Spring in my step, I double checked if I locked my door
properly and left. Nervousness spread through me when I
thought I might run into Nikolai for a second time today, but I
couldn’t barricade myself in my room forever, right? I mean,
how long would he possibly stay? One or two days? After all,
he had a business to run.
I descended the stairs, eager to get out as fast as possible.
Each step I took was met with a gentle creak, reminding me I
wouldn’t leave unnoticed.
 As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I made my way
towards the coat rack, where my dad’s car keys hung gleaming
in the light. But just as I was about to grab them and head out,
his voice sounded from the living room, startling me.
“Sienna,” his voice was soft but stern, not his usual passive
shadow of a whisper, “I’m sorry, but I need the car today. I
have an important meeting to attend.”
I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of meeting he had, as
he hardly ever went out. Was it something serious? Something
urgent?
“It’s fine, I’ll just call an Uber,” I said, trying to hide my
discomfort. Just as I was about to grab my phone and request a
ride, he spoke up.
“Nikolai needs to go grab something from the city centre,
anyway. He can drive you, right?” Awkward silence. I pressed
my lips into a thin line so I wouldn’t blurt out what a shitty
idea this was. Something rustled in the distance and
eventually, I heard footsteps.
“I’m happy to help,” a husky voice sounded, not at all
reflecting the words. Happy? Judging by the look on his face,
he didn’t even know what that word even implies. Not a bit of
warmth stirred in his eyes as he walked toward me and put on
his jacket. “Come on,” he urged, and I went outside, the dark
grey clouds already gathering on the horizon. It was going to
rain soon.
“Fine,” I said, trying to sound confident. Whether I
managed, I didn’t know.
Nikolai walked ahead, making no effort to hold the door
open for me. I sighed silently. By now I had crossed out the
word charming on the little note next to his name three times.
As I made my way outside, too, I noticed the gleaming,
polished, black sports car that was parked in our driveway. It
looked like a panther waiting to pounce, sleek and powerful,
with its muscular curves and shining metal accents.
I walked up to the car and ran my hand along its smooth
surface, feeling the cold metal beneath my fingertips. It was a
work of art, a masterpiece of engineering that had been crafted
with care and precision. Every detail was perfect, from the
sharp lines of its body to the gleaming headlights that seemed
to stare back at me like the eyes of a fierce predator.
As I opened the door and climbed inside, I felt a surge of
excitement shoot through me and I cursed myself at the same
time. His car smelled of leather and his, to my displeasure,
lovely smelling cologne. Why had I taken a deeper breath?
The click of his seat belt echoed through the silence
between us. It’s going to be a pretty long ride if things stay
like this, I thought to myself, trying not to look in his
direction. Maybe he would forget that I was there.
The car’s engine purred heavily beneath the bonnet when it
started up—a rumble of power that echoed through its taut
frame as it strode along the winding road.
We pulled out of the driveway, and I couldn’t help but feel
a rush of adrenaline. My driver was definitely not going easy
on the accelerator, that was for sure. The car hugged the road
like a lover’s embrace, and the wind made the trees on either
side of the road dance.
By now, the first raindrops had touched the windshield and
I debated just closing my eyes and letting the sound of the rain
soak me. But he had other plans.
“Why do you spend your time at the shelter? Isn’t your
resume impressive enough?”
Irritated, I looked at him, but his gaze was fixed straight
ahead.
“You think I do it because it paints me in a good light?”
Did he think so little of me? Yes, he didn’t know me, but to
assume I was doing this just for publicity was moronic.
“I’m sure you don’t spend your summer there because of
the good pay.” I snorted and brushed a curl out of my face.
“Volunteers don’t get any money. Not that the shelter has
any. On the contrary. Besides, they need me.” I looked out the
window again. “Who knows for how much longer, though.”
He didn’t address my second statement.
 “And what’s the point of hanging around there all day?” I
shrugged, knowing full well that he probably hadn’t seen it.
“It’s nice to be needed, isn’t it?” He didn’t answer. “I love
animals and it doesn’t hurt to show a little kindness,
compassion.” He snorted at my words. “What?”
“Kindness won’t get you far in life,” he said matter-of-
factly, analytically.
“And what do you think will get me far in life?” We
stopped at a traffic light, people crossing left and right.
“Selfishness and ruthlessness.” I raised an eyebrow,
amused by his brusque statement.
“If everyone would see it the way you do, the world would
burn.”
He shrugged, as if he didn’t care in the least about that
statement.
“Let it burn.” He took a sharp right turn. “And weak
people will go down with it.”
“Compassion doesn’t make you weak.” Out of the corner
of my eye, I saw his mouth twitching.
“Compassion makes you the weakest. And I despise weak
people.” I snorted, by now irritated by his delusional words
and screwed-up worldview.
“Then, apparently, you must despise me very much.” He
floored the accelerator and my back pressed into the soft
leather of the seat. I waited for his response. But it didn’t
come. Not for the entire ride.

I WATCHED as Nikolai pulled up to the animal shelter. His gaze

was intense and calculating—he seemed almost robotic in his
movements, like a machine that operated by some inner clock.
Nikolai barely said two words after our rather passionate
discussion, and I didn’t bother to start another conversation.
However, his presence alone sent a thrill through me, despite
my better judgement.
I stared out the window, watching as fat droplets of rain
spilled from the sky like a million tears rolling down an
infinite cheek. The world around us was saturated in shades of
dark grey, illuminated only briefly by streaks of lightning that
sizzled across the clouds in the distance.
“When is your shift over?” he asked, clearly annoyed that
he had to play my chauffeur. It wasn’t me who had asked him
to, though.
“I don’t know,” I replied, forcing my tone to take on a
gentle edge. “It’s always different.” He released an annoyed
groan and the little hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
Strange but fascinating how some sounds affect the body.
Don’t tail off, I admonished myself.
“Your phone,” he prompted, and I didn’t understand,
giving him a questioning look. “Give me your phone already.
I’ll put my number in. Text me before you leave so I can pick
you up. And don’t you dare bother me with anything else.“
Ass.
I could feel my skin heating up. It was definitely
inappropriate of him to demand this, obviously, but I was too
curious to say no.
With freezing fingers, I handed him my phone and
watched as he keyed in his number with a speed that should
have been impossible for those large hands. Interesting. No;
focus, Sienna.
“Thank you,” I replied meekly, forcing a smile that he
didn’t quite buy. Without another word, I opened the driver’s
door and was swallowed by rain, the squeal of his tires only a
vague echo in my subconscious. No goodbye.
With large steps I headed for the animal shelter and an
employee opened the door for me as I passed by, comforting
warmth greeting me. Again and again, Nikolai’s words went
through my head, his messed-up world view and his arrogant
judgments.
 I loathed arrogance in all its forms: the way it wrapped
itself around hearts like a snake of pride, strangling out
kindness and generosity with disdainful stares and snide
remarks. Its venomous words are poisonous when spoken by
those who have forgotten their place within our world,
thinking themselves greater than the rest.
I and Nikolai—we had nothing in common. It felt like we
were speaking different languages, that even if we both
reached out our hands, they’d just pass through one another
without ever touching.
Sienna Mayfield:

I’m off in 30 minutes. Are you coming?

 Nikolai Hale:

I’m coming.

15 minutes later, he was already there, waiting for me in the

parking lot while it was pouring, as if Zeus had a personal
vendetta.
 8

I sprinted forward, the rain heavy on my face but barely

noticed in the rush. My feet were slapping against wet
pavement as I raced for Nikolai’s car. The door swung
open and then slammed shut with a thud that echoed through
the empty street.
His unique smell lingered in the stuffy air and nuzzled
around my nose like a veil of seduction. I shook my head
barely noticeably and buckled up, my clothes wet and my hair
deprived of volume. I must have looked terrible.
Nikolai gave me a long, calculating look. I returned his
gaze steadily, exhausted from the hours it took me to take care
of the cats.
“What took you so long?” he finally asked. His voice was
low and menacingly quiet, and I realised that he was quite
irritated and struggling to keep it under control for some
reason that I didn’t quite understand yet.
“There were complications…” I said quickly, “Sorry.”
I watched as he accelerated without answering me and my
heart skipped a beat at the speed. We left the shelter behind,
heading onto the high street, and I sank into the leather, my
back hurting from standing too long.
The rain pelted down, pock-marking the asphalt like drums
on a snare. The car seemed to rumble in time with it as its tires
spun against the slick surface of wet roads. Its headlights
shone a brilliant white through the night, cutting paths into its
darkness and illuminating everything beneath them for brief
moments in time. It almost felt as if they were moving faster
than light itself—soaring through this wet world until there
was nothing but an empty road ahead of us.
I was so deeply sunken in my own thoughts, lulled by the
sound of thunder, that I completely zoned out and not realised
we were heading in the wrong direction.
“Where are you driving me?” I asked, confused. Was he
trying to kidnap me or something? I heard Ramona’s sarcastic
whisper echoing through my brain: Yes, to make you his
personal little sex slave. Send me pics. I shook my head to
banish the mental images. Disgusting. Yeah, keep telling
yourself that, babes.
Nikolai glanced over at my heated cheeks before turning to
face the street again, his expression rather bored.
“To a restaurant. Your father is waiting there and you look
rather unpresentable with your wet hair, to be honest.”
I groaned. This was turning out to be a nightmare. An
evening with my dad while we stared at our plates hoping the
other would be eating faster? Yeah, totally cool.
“What are you doing here, then? Couldn’t he just pick me
up?” I asked suspiciously, not sure if he had any other motives
for being here, then simply driving me to have dinner with my
father.
Nikolai rolled his eyes as if my presence were a thorn in
his flesh. Oh no, maybe I smelled of dog treats and cat hair or
something. I took out my miniature perfume from my pocket
and before he could protest, I pushed the pump. The scent
spread across the car, leaving a hint of jasmine, orange
blossom and musk. Warm, feminine, and worth every penny.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nikolai taking a deeper
breath and clenching his jaw to the point it must have hurt.
Maybe he hated the scent and was just trying to be polite.
Although I hardly thought that politeness was one of his top
character traits.
“Your father requested my presence as well,” he finally
answered, and I raised an eyebrow. It seemed that no matter
what, I was stuck with him for the rest of the evening. As if
this day couldn’t be any worse…

A S WE APPROACHED THE RESTAURANT , I couldn’t help but be

impressed by its grandeur. We drove down a long drive, lined
with lush trees and shrubs until it opened out onto an
expansive lawn where I could make out the outline of a large
building at the end. It was illuminated with rosy light; golden
columns glittered under shimmering lanterns while twinkling
fairy lights adorned tall trees in its perimeter.
Each of us stepped out of the car and my pulse quickened
as we made our way up to the entrance steps with awe-
inspiring sculptures standing on each side like sentinels
guarding some secret.
I looked down at myself and just thought how out of place
I must have looked. This was a spot for special occasions, and
I was sure my jeans still had dog hair on them.
Nikolai seemed unphased, his strides still confident and
purposeful.
He simply walked past me without so much as a glance in
my direction and entered, but didn’t hold the door open for
me, so I almost clashed with the solid wood. I felt embarrassed
and angry at his disregard for basic manners. His lack of
civility was off-putting; it was like a slap in the face.
I looked around the entrance area, taking in its grandeur.
Chandeliers hung from the ceiling and ornate artwork lined the
walls. Guests were scattered throughout in conversation, their
eyes glinting with admiration for one another’s luxurious
appearance and expensive jewellery.
A pretty, petite hostess appeared, her dark hair pinned up
in an elegant twist, a pink and white gingham cloth over one
arm. Nikolai told her my surname and for a millisecond, I
could see something like disapproval in her eyes as she studied
my outfit. To my amazement, he gave her a nasty look, and
she finally averted her eyes.
 The hostess proceeded to skim through some sheets of
paper carefully laid on the host podium, its wood shining in
the soft light above us.
She found my name and nodded, putting on a fake smile
and gestured towards the other side of the restaurant where I
could see my father seated at our table. We followed her
through tables laden with plates of steaming food, downing
forks and knives clinking against china as we made our way to
him.
I saw my father’s face suddenly soften, and he ventured a
tight smile. The corners of his lips barely moved, but there was
warmth in his eyes as he looked at us, or rather at his best
friend, whom he hadn’t seen for years.
It felt almost surreal to be standing here together. My
father and I together in a restaurant? This must have been
some alternate universe. At home, we hardly ever sat together
at the table. Now we were here, trying to look as natural as
possible.
He seemed uncertain—hesitant even—if this would work
out, but the speck of hope in his gaze made me take a tentative
step forward and sit down.
The round table was set with an array of dark red tones,
from lush burgundy to deep vermillion. Table linens were a
cardinal red, and the plates boasted deep vino-coloured rims.
You could see tiny ornaments on the handles of the knives and
forks, and the crystal tumblers shimmered like diamonds in the
light.
I marvelled at the elegance of the restaurant as I looked
around and eyed the decor. The walls were all richly textured
and decorated in a beige hue that was both calming and
inviting. Off to one side there was a grand piano standing tall
against the wall, surrounded by several comfortable armchairs
upholstered in cream-coloured leather.
Around the restaurant, there were several terracotta pots a
few feet high with cacti and succulents spilling out over their
edges in an inviting garden-like effect. The potted plants
surrounded the tables and gave the guests an extra layer of
privacy while imbuing the space with a sense of tranquillity.
Looking up, I saw the same chandeliers as in the entrance
area hanging from the seemingly endless ceiling, bathing the
room in warm light. Stunning, I thought to myself, while I put
the table napkin on my lap.
“Thank you for picking her up. I got held up. Luckily, the
restaurant still had a free table,” my father said to his friend.
The latter just clicked his tongue and made a dismissive hand
gesture.
A moment of awkward silence followed before, thank
God, a young waiter arrived to loosen up the situation.
He placed two menus on the table before us, and I watched
him with a newfound interest. His crisp white shirt showed off
his toned arms, the nametag glimmering in the warm
candlelight.
The waiter handed me my menu, our eyes meeting as he
did so, and his charming smile seemed to suggest we shared an
unspoken understanding of sorts. Maybe he sensed that the
tension at this table was almost palpable and pitied me.
I blushed and looked away, but not before catching Nikolai
looking at me with an expression I couldn’t read. Was this his
face when he was relaxed? His frown told another story for
sure.
My father’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
“Wine?” I nodded, and he poured me some, but when he
wanted to bring the bottle to Nikolai’s glass as well, his friend
raised his finger in front of it, stopping him.
“I still don’t drink,” he said firmly, yet with a hint of
humour. The corner of his mouth pulled up. Except now it
wasn’t in mockery. I raised an eyebrow at his remark.
“You don’t drink? Why so?” Nikolai’s gaze shifted to me,
the softness in it gone.
“Personal reasons,” he returned tightly, and I nodded.
 “Sorry I asked.” Perhaps I’d been poking at something that
would have been better left untouched.
“Stop apologising all the time,” he snarled so quietly it was
barely audible. Noted.
I took a sip and almost sighed at the taste. The wine was
exquisite.
After a few minutes of flipping through the menu, we had
decided on the meal we wanted. The waiter, now much less
flirty because Nikolai surely scared him with his murderous
gaze, took our order and went on his way again, probably glad
not to be in the presence of the man to my left anymore.
“So how was your week? I saw that you made candles
again,” my father asked a bit awkwardly, looking more at my
interlaced fingers than at my face. This was the second time
that evening he had addressed me. A new record, I thought to
myself.
In the meantime, I had finished my glass of wine and he
poured me another, this time less, though.
“Great. I met up with the girls, went to the flea market too.
You know, the usual.” Of course, he didn’t know. He couldn’t
even know what the usual was because he never asked. My
father nodded, and he almost managed something like a smile.
Progress.
“You have a lot of hobbies, I hear. Very creative,” Nikolai
cut in as he crossed his arms, his tone full of nasty sarcasm.
“Well, I’m a multifaceted woman.” I gave him a wide
smile and saw the contentiousness flare in his eyes.
“So eloquent. Have you ever thought about writing a
book?” I choked on the next sip of wine, and utterly
unladylike noises came out of me.
I won, his eyes tried to tell me, and I attempted to kick at
him under the table—unsuccessfully.
My father was in no way supposed to discover this side of
me. I could never face him again. Not that we faced each other
very often. On special occasions, maybe?
 I felt how the wine already showed its effect. My cheeks
were flushed and my chest was no longer quite so tight. My
facial muscles had relaxed and I could finally look Nikolai in
the eye without being intimidated.
I propped my elbows on the table, interlaced my fingers,
and propped my chin on them, knowing full well that you
didn’t really do that in a restaurant like this.
“Yes. But the characters I came up with turned out to be
arrogant, abrasive egotists who were more interested in their
own happiness than anything else,” I said in my sweetest tone,
and he did the thing I least expected—Nikolai Hale smiled.
And he had the most beautiful teeth I had ever seen.
“Oh, they are my favourite.” He took a sip of his water,
looking at me with a spark of fire in his eyes. Or maybe that
was just the wine making me hallucinate.
“I bet they are.” My father looked back and forth between
us in confusion as we danced around a topic that was not
meant to be addressed.
Just as Nikolai was about to give another one of his snarky
comments, two waiters came with our food and placed it
before us.
I inhaled deeply, and the smell immediately made my
mouth water. My stomach grumbled hungrily, the aroma that
infiltrated my senses warm and inviting, like a hug from an old
friend. It was as though a culinary wizard had cast a spell, and
the tantalising aroma of perfectly seasoned meat and herbs had
enveloped me.
I looked up just as my father was telling Nikolai something
funny. This small gesture, this warm and inviting voice—I was
not used to hearing it. The knife in my chest twisted and
ripped open barely healed wounds. He laughed. But never with
me. Not even once. But why was I complaining? He had
invited me to dinner, had even tried to make conversation. I
shouldn’t behave so childishly.
With slumped shoulders, I took the first bite, ignoring my
broken heart.
I DIDN ’ T USUALLY DRINK , but by now I was on my third glass
of wine. It was just too delicious and somehow I had to keep
my hands busy while Nikolai and my father talked about
everything and nothing. I was just silently listening and
although it was like a slap in the face that my dad was so open
with his friend, I was happy for him. I had never seen him like
this and if it made his heart feel lighter, I was more than
grateful.
I cleared my throat. “How did you two actually meet?” I
asked no one in particular and was grateful that Nikolai took
the floor. He seemed a little confused, having surely forgotten
I was even there.
“I can’t remember a time when we didn’t know each other.
We went to the same kindergarten, the same school. But both
of us were too shy to approach the other.” I looked at my dad,
then at Nikolai, and could hardly imagine the two of them ever
being shy.
“I was an introvert, a maths geek, and Chris spent all his
time in front of video games. So we definitely wouldn’t have
gotten to know each other at the playground or some camp
shit.” He shook his head at the thought, apparently so far-
fetched. “One day, I must have been nine, ten years old, I had
this hideous sweater on, and, as kids unfortunately are, they
started picking on me before school.” I saw the hint of a smile
on his lips. “And before the first one could hit, your dad
stepped in and defended my honour.” I laughed out loud, so
raw, so real, picturing Nikolai with his ugly knit sweater on,
almost peeing himself while my father was swinging his fists
on his behalf.
I looked over at him, saw him studying my face and then
looking away. My gaze fell back on Nikolai, his shoulders not
quite as tight.
“So dad beat them up?” The corner of his mouth twisted.
 “Oh no, quite the opposite. He took the beating of his life.
We’ve been best friends ever since. Years later, your mom and
a few others from town joined us, but they’ve all moved away.
It’s just him now—“ He pointed his fork at my dad. “—he
refuses to get out of this hellhole of a town.” My father rolled
his eyes, and didn’t seem to flinch at the mention of mom.
Progress…
“Well, I like it here,” I said, trying to back my father up,
my cheeks already hurting from grinning.
“Of course you do,” he replied, but I couldn’t read his
tone. Disappointment? But why?
My father’s voice brought me out of my brooding while
the waiters took our empty plates.
“I’ve been thinking about something.” He sounded more
nervous than I would have liked. “How about we all go on
vacation together?”
If I hadn’t just taken a breath, I’m sure I would have spit
the wine all over the table in shock. Now all I had left was a
choked cough that strongly resembled a chain smoker.
Vacation? All three together? Where was this coming from?
“I hardly think I can take that long off,” Nikolai said. The
two of them exchanged glances, as if silently debating
something I wasn’t supposed to know. Did they have secrets?
Oh my God, were they like together together and this was
my dad’s way of breaking it to me? Either that, or the alcohol
had a tight grip on me.
“You know you have my full support,” I said with a
serious look as I took his hand and squeezed it tightly. More
affection that we had in years. Wait, was I slurring? “You don’t
need an excuse to tell me you’re in love. I get it, you have
needs, too.” My father looked at me as if I had grown a second
head, and Nikolai wrinkled his nose.
“I mean it. Don’t be ashamed of who you are.” My gaze
passed between the two of them and I saw almost in slow
motion how they simultaneously understood what I was
hinting at.
 And then my father laughed as loud as I had ever heard
him.
“No more wine for you,” Nikolai declared, taking the half-
full glass from me.
“You—“ My father pointed his finger at me, “ —couldn’t
be more wrong.” I pressed my lips together. “And you—“ He
pointed at his non-boyfriend, “—will take time off.”
Nikolai’s jaw clenched as he took in my father’s words.
Apparently, he wasn’t keen on spending some weeks with us.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he finally gave in, and my father
leaned back, satisfied.
So that had been his plan—to feed us and provide me with
alcohol before chaining us together for God knows how long.
Nikolai’s hazel eyes fixed on me, and I saw something
change in his expression. He was intrigued.
 9

“H e can’t be serious,” Ramona exclaimed as I took the

triple chocolate cookies out of the oven and nearly
burned my fingers. I had recounted last night to
them in great detail and they had both listened with open
mouths, their friendship bracelets I bought from the flea
market long forgotten.
“Well, I guess that’s it for our girls’ weekend,” Blair said
as she poured herself more coffee and tapped her nails
impatiently against our kitchen counter. I hadn’t even
considered that with all the excitement—negative, of course.
“No, we’ll manage somehow. I’ll just fly from Spain to
France and we’ll meet there. Easy.” They didn’t look
convinced but dropped the subject.
I pushed my hair out of my face as I put all the plastic
bowls in the dishwasher.
Ramona’s phone vibrated, and she reached for it faster
than humanly possible, pressed her lips together and texted a
short reply.
“Is it your mysterious lover?” Blair asked, a wry smile on
her lips. I frowned and wiped my hands on my apron.
“Lover? How come I don’t know about that?” My tone
was almost scolding. Ramona rolled her eyes and propped her
elbows on the countertop before her.
“Because there’s nothing to tell. Really.” Her rosy cheeks
suggested otherwise, but I didn’t want to pry. Ramona couldn’t
shut up 99% of the time, but deep beneath her facade was a
vulnerable girl who needed time to collect herself. I wouldn’t
push her. One look at Blair and we came to a mutual
agreement. Ramona was far too stubborn to be forced into
anything. I admire that about her.
“Besides, mind your own business. I’m sure you’re already
growing cobwebs,” she playfully hissed at Blair. This
metaphor almost got a piece of cookie stuck in my throat.
“Maybe there is someone,” she replied, sipping her coffee.
“Does anyone in this household ever tell me anything?” I
let out an annoyed groan. Were they keeping secrets from me
now?
“We’re not part of your household,“ Ramona pointed out
the obvious.
“Oh yeah, you came here a few days ago to take a nap in
my bed because your parents are renovating and the noise is
getting on your last nerve.” She just shrugged her shoulders
and took another cookie. “And Blair comes over every other
day for lunch.” I nodded in her direction. “While neither I nor
my dad are home.”
“I’m just always hungry, and you can cook triple better
than I can,” she countered innocently. I shook my head,
wondering if I should ask for rent soon.
“And now get yourself together and fuck that asshole
already. I don’t want to hear your irritating whining anymore.”
Without waiting for my answer, she grabbed her purse and
dug out the car keys.
“My boss is a real asshole. I have to turn in another project
and if I don’t start soon, my weekend will be all work. See
ya.” She gave me a kiss on the cheek and Ramona followed,
intoxicating me with her signature strawberry perfume.
I sighed as I thought about them leaving me alone with all
my jumbled thoughts and a messy kitchen. Sleeping with
Nikolai? Never in a million years. Scratch that.
Over my dead body.
I T WAS ALREADY FAR TOO LATE , and I had almost dozed off
when the much too loud ping of my phone shook me awake.
I sat up half asleep and rubbed my face. My eyes traced the
familiar shapes of furniture cloaked under layers of shadow
cast by moonlight filtering weakly through the window.
Who the hell would text me—I looked at the clock—at
two in the morning? With an annoyed groan, I took my phone
off the nightstand and opened my messages.
You’ve got to be kidding me. The name I least expected
was at the top like a harbinger of trouble—Nikolai Hale.
 Nikolai Hale:

Why haven’t you deleted that fucking book?

Had he seriously texted me just because of this? Not that I

wanted him to approach me personally about it, but the timing
was odd.
 Sienna Mayfield:

Why should I?

It’s a good book and brings me money.

If only he knew that the income from my books was not to buy
me new shoes or some clothes, but to save the shelter….
Nikolai had made it clear that I was too compassionate, too
nice, and that he hated the very qualities that actually defined
me. If he now knew what I was doing with the money…. No,
he would only laugh at me more than he surely already did.
 Nikolai Hale:

So you make money writing sex stories about

us? Besides, you didn’t quite catch my character.
I would never say such moronic things. Her
description fits you way too well, though.

He wasn’t that wrong. Not that I would ever admit it. I would
take this secret to the grave.
 Sienna Mayfield:

It’s not about us.

I have no desire imagining you in that way.

Liar, liar, liar.

Nikolai Hale:

And what are your desires then, Sienna?

I had to read this message again and again. If he was a drinker,

I would have guessed he was tipsy. Or was he trying to…flirt?
No, I’m sure he wasn’t.
Sienna Mayfield:

That’s none of your business.

 Nikolai Hale:

Oh, are they that dirty?

I felt heat rush to my cheeks and shook my head at the images

flashing before my eyes. No, stop. He’s just trying to confuse
you, I told myself. He’s playing with you.
Sienna Mayfield:

Are you done?

 Nikolai Hale:

Are you?

Or do you need help from these filthy books?

To be honest, there are some things not even I

have tried but I’m intrigued.

Yeah, the research took me quite some time. Not that he

needed to know that.
Sienna Mayfield:

I can handle myself.

 Nikolai Hale:

I bet.

Ass.
Sienna Mayfield:

Besides, I didn’t know you were such a prude.

Nikolai Hale:

I’m anything but.

And I didn’t know you’re such a filthy little thing.

My mouth dropped open at his second message, and I pressed

my thighs together. Those words had done more to me than I
would have liked.
Sienna Mayfield:

You don’t know a lot of things about me.

 Nikolai Hale:

And if I want to learn?

I raised an eyebrow. What do you want from me, Nikolai

Hale?
Sienna Mayfield:

Learn what?

I waited five minutes, then ten, but no answer came. This

asshole had ghosted me. Ouch.
 10

J ust a little after noon, my father and I arrived at our

destination on the outskirts of Barcelona, a few miles
away from the city centre. The sun scorched my face as
soon as I stepped out of the cool, air-conditioned taxi.
He paid the driver, and I used the minute to take in all the
beauty of my surroundings. To my left, following a winding
path down the hill, stretched the Balearic Sea, the water so
clear that you could surely see the sand beneath your feet.
Because of the seclusion, there was hardly anyone on the
beach, so you had peace and quiet all day. Every now and
then, vendors walked up and down, selling fruits and drinks. In
the distance, I heard music and my eyes eagerly searched for
the source.
There, in the distance, at the farthest point of the probably
private beach, was a beach bar, the terrace huge. I made a
mental note to visit it as soon as I had the time.
To my right was a high, light grey fence that blocked the
view of the property, and I wondered if that was really
necessary. This place was so remote and yet you had
everything you needed.
I inhaled deeply, could never get enough of this smell of
salty air. My dad fumbled for the keys and opened the gate.
My jaw dropped. Seagulls flew overhead, circling the monster
of a villa that lay before us.
“Let’s go,” he murmured, and I followed him along a path
paved with white stone, meticulously mowed grass to the left
and right.
I wiped the sweat from my forehead, my short sunflower
dress practically sticking to my body.
I knew Nikolai was rich, but the Villa he had rented
surpassed my expectations. The grand entrance way of white
marble greeted us as we approached and stood at its threshold.
You had to be kidding me.
Extraordinary artwork lined the walls, a testament to the
owner’s exquisite taste. A magnificent staircase on our left
gracefully curved its way up from the foyer, beckoning us to
explore the upper levels.
But it was the ethereal beauty emanating from above that
truly captured my attention. A dazzling chandelier,
meticulously crafted from sparkling crystals and wrought iron,
hung from the high ceiling. Its radiant light created a
mesmerising play of shadows and reflections, casting an
enchanting ambience throughout the space. The ceiling itself,
painted with delicate strokes of gold leaf, added a touch of
warmth and luxury, enhancing the regal atmosphere of the
villa.
Everything looked so polished, so new, as if someone had
just moved in here, and yet I recognized my favourite colours
here and there. It was almost as if they were placed on
purpose, just for me. Yellow vases complimented with yellow
flowers, pastel green rugs that looked more expensive than
anything I’ve ever stepped on, and exotic plants that brought
the modern rooms to life. We walked down a corridor, the roof
made of glass so I could look up at the cloudless sky.
At one point, I almost crashed into my father because he
halted abruptly. A familiar voice sounded, and I looked past
him. Nikolai Hale was sitting at the counter in the kitchen, his
laptop in front of him.
“Long time no see,” my father said, his smile clear to hear
as he walked toward Nikolai with open arms. The latter
hugged him and gestured for him to sit down.
 My gaze wandered from left to right, enchanted by the
beauty of the kitchen. It was kept in soft beige tones and in the
centre was a kitchen island, the countertop of light quartz. A
sleek chandelier hung above it, adding a touch of elegance, but
looked way too posh for my taste. High-backed bar stools with
plush beige upholstery surrounded the island, and my father
grabbed one and plastered himself beside Nikolai, who was
showing him something on the laptop.
“Where are the glasses?” I asked, and Nikolai looked up,
confused, probably having already forgotten I was there.
He nodded in the right direction, and I stretched to take
one out of one of the cabinets.
With sweaty hands, I pressed the glass to the dispenser
from the fridge. A soft sound rang out and my glass filled with
ice-cold water. I gulped it down to the last sip and turned back
to the men, who were probably engrossed in some boring
spreadsheet.
But before I could make a snarky remark on not working
during vacation, I spotted the living room around the corner,
which far surpassed the beauty of the kitchen.
It was a study in contrasts, carefully designed to blend
sleekness and comfort. As you stepped into the room, your
eyes were immediately drawn to the clash of materials: the
coolness of steel and chrome furniture juxtaposed against the
softness of the plush upholstery.
Dominating the space, a giant flat-screen television hung
gracefully above an ornate fireplace, the modern and the
classic merging together in perfect harmony.
The walls were painted a calming shade of grey that
provided the perfect backdrop to the array of bookshelves and
abstract art pieces adorning them.
The highlight, however, was the glass wall that gave a
view of the infinity pool and the rattan garden furniture. My
mouth dropped open once more as I stepped closer and took in
the luxury. From here, it looked as if this villa ruled over the
entire city, the rust-red roofs its subjects. I was sure the view at
night was breathtaking.
I glanced at my watch. It was definitely too late for a nap
and besides, I didn’t want to waste my time here sleeping. Yes,
a vacation with my father and Nikolai was not ideal, but why
shouldn’t I take advantage of all the amenities in this house?
“Where is my room?” I asked, while passing the two
workaholics in the kitchen.
“First floor, last door on the right,” Nikolai answered
curtly, without looking at me. I nodded and continued walking,
taking my much too heavy suitcase and dragging it upstairs.
My arms were already burning from the strain, and I promised
to go back to the gym on a regular basis as soon as I got home.
This little performance was pathetic.
The first floor, like downstairs, was kept in light tones.
One wall was once again completely made of glass, so that
you had a better view of the city.
My room wasn’t hard to find, and I swung the door open a
little too vigorously.
The first thing that caught my eye was the large window
that offered a magnificent view of the beach. If I tried hard
enough, I could also make out the beach bar in the distance. A
squeak escaped my lips, and I dropped onto the soft four-
poster bed, the wood dark and polished. The room was kept
minimalistic, just the way I liked it. Pastel yellow tapestry
with modern patterns was covering the walls, and I loved the
owners more and more. What were the chances that I would
end up in a room whose walls mirrored my favourite colour?
Yes, very low.
To my right, next to the door, was a walk-in closet and on
the opposite side of the bed was a dresser with a TV on top. As
if I would sit here and watch TV when down there was the
most beautiful beach I had ever seen.
I forced myself to get up and put my clothes away.
Once I had everything in the right place, I walked into the
adjoining bathroom and put on the red triangle bikini I had
bought before we came here. Ramona had insisted on it and
Blair had her back, so I had no choice but to take it with me.
And yes, they had searched my suitcase.
As I looked in the mirror while brushing my hair, I realised
one thing. Nothing, and especially no one, would ruin this
vacation for me. I had worked my ass off this year, had
sleepless nights and dozens of exams behind me. I had
deserved some sun and beach, maybe even a small summer
fling.
I grabbed a large towel and closed the door behind me.
Nikolai Hale would not spoil my fun.
11
 NIKOLAI

I didn’t even need to look up to know she was back in the

kitchen. Even though her footsteps were silent, she
couldn’t conceal her unmistakable scent. It was not only
her perfume, but a very personal note I couldn’t describe. It
irritated me to the core.
I hated everything about her, hated everything she
embodied. Her kindness, the blind naivety with which she
walked through life, the fact that she saw the good in
everything…. And most of all, I hated her smile.
“We’re on vacation. Put the laptop away,” her melodic
voice rang out, and I couldn’t help but look up. A big mistake.
Because in front of me was the most beautiful body I had ever
seen. Sienna had the curves of a goddess, her hips perfect to
grab her by and—
I looked down at the screen again and felt my dick getting
rock hard. Next to her father. Fuck my life.
“Work doesn’t stop just because you’re in another
country,” I returned, and she left without another word,
presumably through the living room out onto the patio where
the pool was. Good. She should stay as far away from me as
possible.
I turned to my friend. “You should go outside, though.
You’re paler than a marble statue.” He just rolled his eyes.
“I have somewhere to go in a minute. Won’t take too long,
though.” I looked at him questioningly.
 “A date already? I’m impressed.” His expression darkened.
“Of course not. I have an appointment with that specialist I
told you about.” I took a deep breath and tried to steer this
conversation in a more positive direction. Not that it was part
of my expertise.
“I think it’s good that you’re finally doing something about
that mug.” Chris punched me in the arm and I rubbed over the
spot. “Go on. And take my car. I insist.” With a sigh, he rose,
but before he walked out of the kitchen, he turned around.
“Thank you…for everything.” I saw the sincerity in his
face. I had never been an emotional person, never knew how
to handle such things. Usually, I ridiculed situations like these
or didn’t address them at all. But he needed me. So I stepped
out of my comfort zone.
“Always.”

C HRISTOPHER HAD BEEN GONE for half an hour and I didn’t

hear a peep from outside. By now, I was almost afraid that
Sienna had drowned. I would just check on her, I told myself
as I stood up and walked towards the patio. That wasn’t an
excuse, of course. I just wanted to make sure everything was
okay.
Stepping closer to the glass wall, I saw her leaning against
the edge of the pool, her face turned to the sky. Sienna’s eyes
were closed, and she looked almost angelic. Her shoulders and
chest glistened from the sweat and tanning oil she must have
used, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Her breasts rose and
fell steadily and she had that half-smile on her face that she
always had when she thought she wasn’t being watched. As if
her mind was the epitome of peace. As if nothing would
bother her.
I took a step closer and opened the door. Sienna heard it
and turned around, her blonde hair sticking to her upper arms.
In this light, her eyes shone almost turquoise.
 “Are you wearing a suit even when it’s this hot? Why
don’t you put on something lighter?” she asked with a cheeky
smile on her face. There were only two occasions when I
didn’t wear a suit—at the gym and when I slept.
Today, I wore dark blue suit pants and a white button-
down shirt rolled up to my elbows. Not exactly comfortable,
but I preferred this outfit.
“You want to see me walking around half naked, Sienna?”
She pressed her lips together before her gaze wandered up and
down my body, blushing. Such a wicked mind.
“No,” she lied, “Why don’t you come out? The weather is
just insane.” She pushed herself away from the edge and
floated onto her back, her thighs and torso glistening like
diamonds.
“I hate sunshine,” I returned tightly, forcing myself not to
stare at her hard nipples beneath the much-too-thin fabric.
What the hell is wrong with you?
“Why do I actually believe you?” She giggled, and it
sounded like the sweetest of melodies. Madness, yes. I had
gone completely mad. Spain was not doing me any good.
“Come on, the water is fantastic,” she tried to persuade me
again, but I wouldn’t budge.
“I still have work to do. Try not to drown.” With these
words, I left her and went to my room, desperately needing an
ice-cold shower.

I T WAS ALMOST MIDNIGHT , and I was just going to the kitchen

to get a bottle of water when I saw dim light from the patio.
The house was immersed in silence and I had thought that
everyone had gone to sleep.
With the bottle in hand, I went outside and saw Sienna
lying on a sun lounger, a bathrobe on, and a glass of white
wine beside her on the small table. She was just staring up and
had this expression on her face that I somehow couldn’t
interpret.
The sky shimmered with the light of a crescent moon,
illuminating the night and surrounding us in silver. Sienna’s
face looked almost surreal in this light.
The shadows cast around her made each feature seem more
defined, from the arch of an eyebrow to the curve of an
eyelash or slope down towards a rosy cheekbone. She looked
like someone from another world who came to rip your heart
out with a smile on her face.
I should have walked away. I should have left her alone.
Instead, I took a step closer.
Sienna turned her gaze on me, and her eyes lingered for a
moment too long on my naked torso.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” She pointed to the sky.
My gaze held hers. A breath. Then another. Time seemed
to stand still, and the tension was almost palpable.
“Breathtaking.” We just looked at each other for a few
seconds before she turned her face away and sat up.
I walked to the edge of the pool and looked over the city,
thousands of lights on the horizon like fireflies in the distance.
From high above, the town appeared to be alive and
breathing, with warm yellow pinpoints of light flickering from
windows and doorways in contrast with stark shadows cast by
trees on empty streets.
The sound of the sea in the background was like a whisper,
its waves ebbing and flowing in a steady rhythm.
“Do you like the place?” It had cost me a small fortune,
but it was worth it. Sienna took another sip of her wine as she
eyed me.
“It’s surreal, just insane. I think it’s one of the most
beautiful houses I’ve ever been in.” She paused, and for a
moment I thought she had pretty much finished her rambling,
but then she added, “Thank you.”
 I gave her a smile, an honest one, without sarcasm or
anything. “You’re welcome.” I made my way back into the
house, but her words stopped me.
“We can do this again sometime. You know…talk.” She
looked almost sheepish proposing that and I wondered what
she was trying to accomplish, what her motivations were. We
all have hidden agendas that guide our words and actions. I
couldn’t help but wonder what drove her, what she sought to
achieve through her enigmatic ways. In a world where
intentions often wore masks, I couldn’t help but question
people.
Everyone had ulterior motives. But somehow, I believed
that she really just wanted to spend time with me. And this
thought disturbed me more than I would have liked.
“Go to sleep, Sienna.” With those words, I went back to
my room, the air suddenly much colder.
 12

I felt like a bird soaring through the sky as I rode my bike

along the coastline, with the sun beaming down on me.
As the wheels turned and the wind caressed my face, it
whispered in my ear, a gentle serenade that spoke of endless
possibilities. It carried the salty scent of the sea, a symphony
of briny freshness that mingled with the crispness of the
coastal air.
Its surface sparkled with a captivating invitation, as if each
wave beckoned me to surrender to its embrace. The rhythmic
ebb and flow of the waves, like synchronised dancers, created
a symphony of sound, a mesmerising harmony that resonated
within my soul.
In this choreography, I felt connected to something greater,
a shared language between nature and myself. It was as if we
were partners in a divine dance, swaying to the rhythm of our
own unique melody—a secret composition that filled me with
an overwhelming comfort.
Everything seemed so alive and vibrant, from the snippets
of beach grasses swaying beneath me to that ever-changing
kaleidoscope of blue stretching on for miles before me.
I stopped for a moment, out of breath. For over an hour, I
had been cycling through the area, exploring the coast, or
winding my way through narrow alleys.
Nikolai and my father had an appointment, and I had no
idea when they would return. Stupid work with stupid projects
and stupid deadlines.
 To be honest, it hurt a little that my father had left me
alone although he had pushed for this vacation. But I also
didn’t want to be the ass who wasted the summer moping
around or spreading bad energy. It had been a huge step that
we were here at all.
I pulled out my phone—no new messages.
Where were they all day? I got back on my bike. It had
been the right decision to exchange the top for a bikini,
otherwise I would never have stood this suffocating heat.
A blond guy, his hair curly and a little longer, waved at me
from the volleyball court, and I thoughtlessly waved back at
him, a smile on my lips.
Never would I have expected him to leave his friends
behind and run toward me. I slackened my speed, but didn’t
stop completely. Only when he was closer did I realise what
beautiful eyes he had. They radiated warmth, comfort. Like a
hug after a tough day at work.
His body wasn’t bad either. Fit but not too toned.
Images from last night popped back into my mind. Nikolai
without a T-shirt, looking at me; really looking at me. Not just
a quick glance. It had been real. And over much too quickly.
I shook these thoughts off. No, he was a selfish ass.
The guy brought me out of my thoughts and I almost
startled when he jogged next to me like it was the most casual
thing in the world. He had asked me something in Catalan and
I shook my head like an idiot. If only I had learned a few
phrases at home….
“Do you speak English? Dutch?” I asked him, and his
mouth twisted into a charming smile.
“I’m running after a stranger right now, but I’m not that
stupid,” he joked, and I couldn’t help but return his smile. He
looked a little younger than me, maybe 20. His golden hair
matched his summer tan perfectly, his legs full of sand.
“What’s your name?” His accent was strong, which only made
him even more attractive.
 “Sienna, yours?”
“Jordi, nice to meet you.” He reached out to me while
jogging and I shook his hand, causing the bike to wobble,
almost crashing into him. “How long are you staying?”
I considered it for a moment. I’d seen it often enough on
TV that you’d better not tell strangers such information while
on vacation.
“Two-three weeks, maybe.” I kept it as vague as possible
without seeming rude and Jordi brushed his hair out of his
face.
“Enough time for us to meet,” he replied, his tone sweet,
almost shy, though it didn’t match his appearance at all.
The villa was already coming into view, and I breathed a
sigh of relief. I didn’t want to give him false hope, but he
seemed cute and funny, so I finally stopped across the street.
He halted, his gaze hopeful.
“Why?” I asked as I wiped the sweat from my brow. Jordi
gave me a perplexed expression and finally scratched the back
of his head.
“Y-you’re the prettiest girl I’ve seen around here,” he
stuttered sheepishly, and I pulled out my phone.
“Oh, and I thought you were chasing me because of my
stunning personality.” An embarrassed grin spread across his
lips and I held out my phone for him to enter his number.
His fingers quickly slid across the screen and before I
could blink, he handed it back to me.
“Text me when you’re free. We can go downtown; there’s
a great restaurant right—“ His words were caught up in the
loud engine noise of Nikolai’s car. Like a maniac, he had
driven up the street and halted next to the gate that led to the
garage.
I saw his gaze moving back and forth between us,
analysing the situation, and finally clenching his jaw.
“Do you know him?” Jordi asked, hadn’t missed Nikolai’s
look. I rolled my eyes.
 “Yes, unfortunately. I have to go now, but I’ll text you.”
Before I could realise it, the stranger leaned over and gave me
a fleeting kiss on the cheek. The next second he was already
jogging away, his step lighter.
I just stood there, dumbstruck, my fingers on the spot
where his lips brushed my skin just a moment ago.

I STEPPED INTO THE SHOWER , and a rush of warmth enveloped

my body as the hot water flowed down, creating a blissful
cascade. The bathroom exuded an air of luxury, adorned with
sleek marble walls and intricately tiled floor that exquisitely
captured the interplay of light and shadows. Golden accents
added a touch of opulence, glimmering delicately against the
backdrop of refined elegance.
A steamy fog danced around me in slow circles as I closed
my eyes and allowed the droplets to drench every inch of me.
I let my hands caress the suds of strawberry-scented
shampoo as I massaged it into my scalp. The sweet smell was
like a lullaby for my senses, as if every muscle in me was
melting away and slipping through the bubbles.
After rinsing away the shampoo and shower gel, I stepped
out, the steam my companion. I grabbed a towel from the rack
and dried myself off before brushing my hair, dangerous
thoughts filling my mind as they always did when I was alone.
I wondered why I couldn’t get Nikolai out of my head,
why he haunted my mind like a ghost that couldn’t rest.
Pathetic. We were so different, too different. It was as if our
hearts beat to contrasting rhythms, creating a strife that made
our touch forever elusive, forever unrealized.
Nikolai was a broken vessel, incapable of filling the void
that echoed within me.
I was lonely. So utterly lonely that even the embrace of my
own reflection, as I stood before the mirror, felt hollow and
incomplete. He was unable to cast away the shadows that
veiled my soul and I wouldn’t let him anyway, because in my
darkest hours, I thought I’d deserve it.
Someone knocked on the door and I quickly wiped away
my tears. With wet legs and a towel around me, I went to
opened it a crack.
“Dinner is ready,” Nikolai said grumpily. I put on a forced
smile as I brushed a wet strand of hair behind my ear.
“I’ll be right there,” I replied, praying that I looked the
same as ever. Something told me, however, that Nikolai saw
through my facade, that he saw my dried tears, every single
one. His gaze lingered on my eyes and I held his gaze,
challenging him to utter some stupid remark of his. But it
didn’t come.
“Are you okay?” He sounded worried, which I never
expected from him. I liked and hated it at the same time.
“I’m fine. I’ll hurry.” With those words, I closed the door
and dropped my towel, looking for some proper clothes.

I STEPPED into the dining room, the table’s polished wood

gleaming in soft light cast by two white candles placed in
pewter candlesticks. On one side of the table was a large white
plate with a bunch of colourful vegetables, and on the other
side sat several plates full of different tasty dishes. Even
though there wasn’t anything particularly fancy served tonight,
it still felt like an elegant dinner party thanks to the artsy
paintings on the walls and the chandelier above our heads.
Suddenly, I felt out of place with my grey sweatpants, the
white T-shirt and pink socks.
“Do you like it?” my father asked, a hopeful look on his
face. He gestured for me to take a seat and I noticed he had
even styled his hair. It looked good on him. Everything looked
good on him—especially that expression he wore today.
“I love it,” I replied, pouring myself some wine as the men
loaded food onto their plates. “Did you cook it all by
yourself?” My father snorted in amusement.
“As if I could expect any help from him.” He pointed the
knife at Nikolai, who rolled his eyes.
“I’ve been working.” I shook my head and took the first
sip.
“What did you do today?” my father asked me and I
couldn’t suppress my surprise. First the food and the
decoration, and now conversation? It almost felt like a normal
family dinner. Plus Nikolai, my stepfather. I shook my head,
almost laughing out in embarrassment.
“She made a…friend today,” Nikolai mockingly answered
for me and I scowled at him, trying to kick him under the table
—in vain.
“A friend? That’s nice. Are you going to hang out?” He
chewed on his potato, oblivious.
“Yes, Sienna; are you going to hang out?” Nikolai asked,
his tone pure sarcasm.
“Actually,” I replied, looking at him with a mocking grin,
“We’re going to go on a date. He’s really charming. Something
you’d never understand.” He twisted his mouth into a
diabolical smile and my father looked back and forth between
us as if he was watching the most interesting tennis match in
the world.
“You don’t like charming, Sienna.” I raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t know what I like,” I retorted, taking a sip of
wine to blame my heated face on the alcohol.
“I have a feeling. It’s almost like I read a book about it.” I
choked on my own spit and my father had to pat me on the
back. Was he really going to bring it up at dinner?
I wanted to kick at him again, just lightly, but suddenly he
had my foot pinned between his knees. It took everything I
had to stay cool and composed, but the look on his face told
me he had me right where he wanted.
“Aren’t you hungry?” my father asked after looking at my
full plate. It was very hard to eat something while your foot
was between the legs of your dad’s best friend, though.
In response to his question, I took the fork and shoved
some vegetables in my mouth to distract myself.
Suddenly, Nikolai’s hand fell under the table and his
fingers brushed over the back of my foot so gently that I
thought I had imagined it. A shiver ran down my spine and I
tensed up. His hands were on my bare skin. And my father sat
next to me, unaware.
“Are you not feeling well?” Nikolai asked, looking at me
from underneath his eyelashes.
“I-I’m fine,” I stammered, trying to pull my foot away, but
he wouldn’t let me. Instead, his fingers slid further up my
calves.
I pressed my thighs together, wanting to block out the heat
that was spreading deep inside me. One look at Nikolai told
me he knew. And then the asshole smiled. His fingers drew
small circles on my shin, surely feeling my goosebumps.
“Stop it,” I mouthed, but he was rather unimpressed by my
demand.
Just wait… This game was meant for two.
I shifted my weight so that my foot slid up and grazed the
inside of his thigh. I saw his mask crack for a second until he
fixed it and pretended everything was fine. Nikolai’s grip on
my calf tightened as I nonchalantly chewed. He took a sip of
water and clutched his fork tighter.
“Are you not feeling well?” I asked sweetly, mimicking his
words from earlier. Only a low sound from his throat sounded
and my father excused himself for a moment. But the game
was not over. Instead, we stared at each other for dear life, but
no one gave in. Nikolai loosened his knees and my foot slid
forward, grazing something hard. Oh my God… He hadn’t,
had he?
He slid forward and only then did I feel the full extent. He
was rock hard. Like a deer staring into the headlights of a
truck, I froze in place, unable to move.
 “You look a little pale, Sunshine.”
Had my foot just touched Nikolai Hale’s dick? Definitely.
Was he still keeping me in place? Positive. Did I like it?
Unfortunately.
Carefully, oh so carefully, my foot touched him again and
a jolt of electricity went through me as I felt him get even
harder. Was that even possible? I didn’t think so.
“You like that?” I didn’t reply, just remained in the same
position and that was enough of an answer for him. He smiled,
and it was anything but gentle. No, it was a warning and a
promise, and I didn’t know what turned me on more.
We moved around the questions like silent dancers, not
addressing what was happening.
“Do you like that?” My foot brushed over his length, and
he cursed between gritted teeth. That’s right. I took a strand of
my hair and twirled it around my index finger, my gaze
innocent. His eyes were blazing, part with rage, and I realised
that there was no clear cut between hatred and desire.
My father’s voice made me jump. “Sorry, I had one last
important phone call to make. But that was it for the day;
promise.” I jerked my leg away with such force that my knee
banged against the underside of the table and I sucked in a
sharp breath. My father just looked at me, confused, as if I
wasn’t myself today, and that was true. Alas. But this charade
had to stop. It was not doing us any good. At least, not me.
After a much too awkward while, thank goodness,
everyone had finished eating, and I helped my father clear the
table while Nikolai disappeared into his room.
“That was nice…” I said, without looking at my dad. I
could see that he had made an effort. I didn’t know where his
sudden change came from, but I welcomed it with open arms.
Maybe, after a while, we could have a genuine bond. Yes, that
would be lovely.
“It was.” I heard the smile in his voice as I loaded the
dishwasher, but didn’t dare look back for fear I would scare
him away like a stray cat.
 “Good night, Si,” he said and disappeared upstairs, leaving
me with a heart that was so much lighter than a week ago.
 13

T wo days had already passed since our strange dinner,

during which I had hardly seen Nikolai. Fortunately, he
was often away, so we didn’t have to face what had
happened. I had spent most of the time on the beach and by
now, my skin looked reasonably healthy again. A light tan
adorned my body and made my skin glow. Another week or
two and I would look like the girls who played on the
volleyball field, I thought to myself.
I brushed the sand off my legs and looked into the
distance. Soon the sun would kiss the sea, but before I left, I
sent Jordi a brief message. He was nice and, to be honest, I felt
a little lonely without my friends.
 Sienna Mayfield:

Hey, I’m the girl you chased a few days ago. Do

you want to meet tomorrow at the funfair?

I noticed the flyer this morning on my way to the beach. It had

been a few years since I had visited one in Belgium. Back
then, I had gone alone, and it hadn’t been nearly as much fun
as it was supposed to be.
Barely a few minutes later, my phone vibrated.
 Jordi Ruiz:

Hey, Sienna. I’m glad you texted me after I acted

like a total caveman–sorry for that. And yes, of
course, at 8?

With a smile, I confirmed the time and packed up my things.

My hair felt like straw and I could hardly wait to wash the salt
off my body.
Tomorrow will be a lovely day, I told myself, as I walked
up the steep stairs to the main street. The neighbourhood
seemed almost deserted at this hour. Maybe everyone was
already having dinner. With this thought, it struck me that I
had only had breakfast today. The few fruits on the beach had
also done nothing, and my stomach responded with a rumble.
I came closer to the villa and saw Nikolai’s posh car in the
garage. He must have been home, and I could already see us
being awkward, avoiding the other.
This is going to be a fun evening.

Actually, it was a fun evening.

My dad had ordered pizza, and we all sat down on the
couch to watch a soccer game. My heart beat faster every time
his face lit up when his favourite team scored a goal or when
he grumpily commented that the referee was being unjust. I
smiled at his every remark, loving the unfamiliar sound of his
voice. I had heard it so, so rarely. And now I was soaking up
everything I could hear for fear he would fall back into old
patterns.
Nikolai was so quiet during the game that I hardly noticed
him, though. No stupid comments or sarcastic lines. Maybe he
was tired of getting on my nerves. I didn’t question his silence.
Never look a gift horse in the mouth, right?
When the game was finally over with a draw, I headed to
my room, just wanting to fall asleep. The water and the sun
had completely knocked me out and I could hardly wait to lay
my head on the soft pillow.
With a yawn, I opened the door and noticed the sounds
from outside. I could never sleep when there was noise.
Maybe it was the aftereffect of living in a packed boarding
school. It was always noisy there. Even after the lights went
out, you rarely had a chance to be by yourself, to have some
peace. I couldn’t stand the sounds of the night anymore, so I
always slept with the window closed, no matter how warm it
was.
I lay down in bed, the moonlight spilling through the
narrow gap between the curtains, casting its silver glow over
everything that was in its way. The walls were outlined in a
dusting of white, like sparkling snowflakes had been sprinkled
across it, and even the furniture seemed to have come alive as
various shades danced from one surface to another.
My eyelids felt heavy, but my mind was wide awake. My
room seemed too bright even with the curtains closed and I
could hear the faint hum of cars passing despite the window
being firmly shut. Annoyed, I tossed around in bed, unable to
find a comfortable position that would lull me into slumber
like it normally did. The minutes ticked by as thoughts raced
through my head one after another: memories of people and
places; fears for what’s to come… I had read all the books on
how to sleep better, done all sorts of relaxation exercises and
nothing worked. There was no respite from this constant state
of alertness.
Finally, I had to admit to myself that this was one of those
anxious nights I had sometimes and there was nothing I could
do about it. Nobody knew that I struggled with insomnia; it
came in waves, and I didn’t want to start taking meds.
I decided to go downstairs and make myself a cup of tea.
So, I trudged down the creaky stairs, passing each art piece
that hung on the wall and it looked like they were dancing in
the pale moonlight to a song only they could hear.
As soon as I stepped into the kitchen, I opened one of the
cabinets, looking for some loose tea leaves—just something
simple and soothing to help me relax.
I almost dropped the mug when I heard a cough from
outside. My heart was hammering against my chest and it
didn’t calm down when I thought about who might be on the
patio. I debated whether to go outside or rather head back to
my room.
But there was this gentle voice in the far corner of my
brain urging me to approach the source of the noise. Maybe
Nikolai couldn’t sleep either. Maybe he was having
nightmares, too.
I tiptoed past the kitchen towards the living room, where
the door to the patio was wide open. And lo and behold—
Nikolai was lying on one of the sun loungers, his hands behind
his head, looking at the stars.
I stilled for a moment, veiled by one of the curtains. He
looked so different when he wasn’t around people, more at
peace, somehow. As if he could finally shed his icy facade and
mockery. His features looked even more prominent in the
moonlight, his jaw sharper. But still, there was something soft
about his face, something vulnerable.
I didn’t want to take this moment from him and turned
around, but his voice made me halt.
“I know you’re there, Sunshine.”
14
 NIKOLAI

I had already heard Sienna moving around in the kitchen.

She could barely hide her footsteps and the rustling of the
curtains had finally betrayed her. She paused when she
heard my voice and I cursed myself for ever having opened
my mouth. In fact, I just wanted to have my peace out here.
Certainly hadn’t planned to listen to her constant chatter.
Her blonde hair came into view accompanied by her pink
pyjamas with the much too short bottoms.
I turned my gaze back up, away from her.
“Why do you call me Sunshine? You said you hate it,”
Sienna asked sceptically, sitting down on a stool across from
my lounger.
“Yes, I do.” No, I don’t.
I caught a glimpse of her face, and she rolled her eyes.
Sienna never had done that before, at least not in front of me.
Progress. She had to stop being so nice, living for others. But
why did I even care? I had no interest in her personal life
whatsoever.
“Why are you still awake?” I eventually asked. No interest
whatsoever? Yeah sure, mate. She shrugged while watching
her nails way too intently.
“Couldn’t sleep.” Yeah, like I couldn’t since the dinner that
had almost cost me my friendship. My self-control had been
hanging by a thread, and I’d been on the verge of fucking her
right there on that table in front of her father. And something
like that must not happen again. Definitely. “What are you
thinking about?” she asked absently, as if her thoughts were
somewhere else, too.
I shrugged, my hands behind my head. Sienna sighed and
stood up, her shoulders almost bluish in the pale moonlight.
Her footsteps were nearly silent as she came towards me and
lay down on the sun lounger next to mine, imitating my pose.
Her skin, as milky white as porcelain, had gotten a little
tan over the last few days. It looked good on her, too good.
She crossed her ankles, her long legs like those of a
ballerina.
“I couldn’t sleep either,” I finally said to fill the silence.
“Maybe I should make you one of my famous candles
sometime, too.” I heard the smirk in her words and it did
something strange to me. Something that I didn’t like.
I cleared my throat. “Candles?”
“Yes. The oils help with sleep problems. Especially the
ones with lavender.” I remembered the disgusting smell
coming from their hallway back in England. It had been
lavender then, too. My nose burned from the mere memory of
it.
“That would be…nice,” I finally replied, so I wouldn’t
badmouth her good deed. What the hell? As if that had ever
bothered me…. I had always told the truth, no matter if it hurt
others. Why not now?
“What other smells do you like? So I’ll know when I make
the candle.” We both looked up at the sky, watching the stars,
and somehow, we were closer than if we were lying together. I
considered her question for a moment.
“Jasmine, orange blossom and musk.”
“That’s very…specific,” she said sceptically, “But I’ll try.”
I couldn’t help but smile. She had no idea…
“Thanks.” I watched her out of the corner of my eye—
Sienna smiled. It was almost like witchcraft when she put it
on, drew you in and wouldn’t let go.
 A few moments passed, and I had almost thought she had
fallen asleep, but then she spoke again, her tone challenging.
“Where do you see yourself in ten years, Mr. Hale?” I
almost laughed.
“Is this supposed to be a job interview?” Sienna snorted in
amusement.
“Just answer the question,” she prompted, her face still
turned upward. She looked like an angel, and it pissed me off.
“I never really thought about it. If you asked that question
about my business, I could give you a two-hour PowerPoint
presentation, but personally? I’ll probably still be sitting at my
desk, working on corporate reports.”
“Pretty boring,” she returned, pretending to yawn, and I
raised an eyebrow, turning my face entirely in her direction.
My plans were anything but boring. Ambitious would have
been the better word.
“Is that so? Where do you see yourself in ten years,
Sunshine?”
Sienna thought for a moment before her face lit up like a
firework.
“In ten years, I’ll be living in a little house in the suburbs.
White picket fence and all that, you know? I’ll have chickens,
maybe, and the most beautiful roses you’ve ever seen will
bloom in the front yard.” I couldn’t help but smile, because I
was already picturing her digging elbow-deep in dirt while her
candles stunk up the air. “There will be apple trees in the
garden and I will read under them until the sun goes down.
Doesn’t that sound like the epitome of happiness?”
I didn’t reply. “Of course, I would already be married to a
loving husband who would indulge my every whim. Maybe
we would already have kids. Living a peaceful life, you
know?” I clenched my jaw, hadn’t had time to smother the
images in time. Sienna with another man. No one would
deserve her and her moronic kindness. What the hell was I
talking about? Sienna Mayfield was the epitome of not my
style. Her outlook on her future had nothing in common with
mine. We lived on two different planets, galaxies, even. I
despised everything she valued. And I’m sure she felt the same
way.
“And someday, I would sit by the fireplace and tell my
grandchildren all the things I had never experienced,” she said,
her voice no more than a whisper, hollow, suddenly.
“Your husband will never be good enough for you,” I
whispered more to myself, mentally slapping myself for that
comment. It got quiet for a moment and I almost hoped she
hadn’t heard me, but then she turned her blue eyes on me.
“And who will be good enough for me, Nikolai?” She
sounded almost amused, as if I had said something completely
implausible, yet she was playing along.
No one, I thought, but did not say it. When she understood
I wouldn’t answer, she changed the subject.
“Jordi and I have a date tomorrow at the funfair.” I saw the
anticipation in Sienna’s gaze and clenched my hand into a fist
so hard I thought my bones would break. What on earth did
she see in that boy?
“No, you don’t.” She furrowed her eyebrows as I turned
my attention back to the stars. I’d be damned if the blond little
monster could see through me.
“And why not?” she asked, crossing her arms as she
waited for my answer.
“Because I said so.” I almost enjoyed this conversation and
even more so hearing the irritation with which she spoke. It
gave me the most macabre kind of satisfaction.
Sienna jerked upright, and I had to suppress a smile. “You
don’t give me orders,” she retorted, her tone petulant.
If she only knew who this guy really was and how many
skeletons he had in his closet, she would have thanked me.
We’re talking about drug and gun possession, quite a few
criminal records, and sexual harassment. Of course, I had done
some rather illegal research as soon as I saw them together.
Let’s call it superficial concern. If she was going to get
kidnapped, I felt obligated to go out of my way to find her, and
I really didn’t have time for that. “I will go.”
My gaze caught hers.
“No. And if I catch you sneaking away, your father will
hear about the questionable content of your books.” Her face
ran red—not with shame, but with anger. It looked kind of
sweet.
Sienna didn’t need to know why I reacted that way, or how
I had got my information about this boy. Did I come across as
an asshole? Yes. Did I care? No, not really.
“The book has—“ she began, but I interrupted her.
“Don’t tell me that the book has nothing to do with me. We
both know it’s a lie.” For someone who wrote stories like
these, she could be quite the prude. Too bad. Not that I’d
wished otherwise. I didn’t care what she did in bed as long as
she did it by herself.
“You’re such an…ass,” she exclaimed, almost shocked,
and jerked to her feet like a startled cat. Her cheeks turned
pink, her breathing uneven.
“Ass?” I cracked up, “Is that all you got?” I called after
her, while she walked towards the door in a huff, not
answering me. Okay, enough fun…
“Sienna, wait,” I finally called out before she could
disappear from my field of vision.
She reluctantly halted, but did not direct her gaze at me
again. Maybe that was for the best, because the amused look
on my face would certainly have finished her off.
“What is it?” she asked, annoyed.
“I’ll go with you tomorrow. To that stupid funfair, I mean.”
It was clear that she must have been feeling lonely. Her father
and I were gone sometimes, and her friends weren’t here
either. Of course, she wanted to find someone to pass the time
with, but I would have preferred it to be someone with no
criminal record and less of a dick between his legs.
 Sienna looked over her shoulder in my direction, but
before I could interpret her look, she was gone.
 15

N ikolai Hale was more than delusional if he really

thought I would go to the funfair with him after he
blackmailed me. This thought haunted my mind for the
next entire day and no matter what I did, I couldn’t shake off
the anger over his outrageous behaviour yesterday. It wasn’t
enough that he had interfered in my love life, no, he had also
started fussing about the book again. Deep in the far corner of
my brain, I had hoped that he would never bring up the topic
again, but I had not been so lucky. I was visibly embarrassed,
and a gentleman would have shut up, but Nikolai was no
gentleman. He was rough, and vulgar, and impossible. He
annoyed me abysmally and got off on my awkwardness.
“Are you okay?” my father asked, and I looked at him in
confusion. He pointed to the squashed orange in my hand.
“Y-yes, I’m fine.” I put the remains away and rose from
the sun lounger where I had spent the entire day staring
furiously into space. My father had joined me halfway through
the day and even went for a swim after we had made small
talk.
“I have to head out again in the evening. Are you going to
be okay without me?” he asked with a worried expression. As
if I hadn’t been able to get along without him for the last few
years.
Calm down, Sienna, the reasonable voice in my head
whispered, already annoyed by my brooding.
 “Go ahead. I might go check out the city.” And certainly
not with Nikolai.
He nodded absently, and I sensed he had something on his
mind. It wasn’t his silence alone that tugged at my concern,
but his newfound voice. We had had more conversations
together in the past few days than in the last couple of years. I
enjoyed his attention, but secretly, I was afraid to get used to
his new ways, only to be shattered by disappointment again.
“All right. But I want to make it up to you so we’ll go out
for dinner sometime in the next few days, won’t we?” His
voice was full of hope, which inevitably washed over me. My
bright smile betrayed how much I’d like that and with a wave,
I went to my room to wash the chlorine and tanning oil off my
body.

W ITH A TOWEL WRAPPED AROUND ME , my skin still steamy

from a hot shower moments before, I looked out the window
and my eyes widened at the setting sun that was turning
everything to amber. Up close, flecks of yellow and pink
painted on darker shades stretched across the horizon like fine
brush strokes in an epic masterpiece. Even with my poor
eyesight, I could see every hue captured within that swirl–
tinges from evergreens to lavenders to rusts so vivid they
made me catch my breath and slow down without realising
why.
I opened the window and heard the waves crash against
each other as they rolled in and a chorus of seagulls called out
from somewhere beyond. The salty mist in the air made me
close my eyes and appreciate where I was at that moment.
I felt a rumble in my chest before the sight even registered.
Nikolai’s fancy car was pulling into the driveway, interrupting
my thoughts. The engine growled as it came to a stop before
our porch steps, its glossy black body glinting under the sun
like a metal shark patrolling for prey. I watched as he
gracefully exited from behind the wheel, adjusting his suit
jacket with two swift movements of his arms while walking
towards the entry with that familiar cocky smirk on his face.
Before Nikolai could enter the house, his eyes travelled to
the upper level and fell on me. His steps slowed down until he
stopped completely.
The sky added a reddish touch to his black hair and my
gaze snaked down his defined body for a moment too long.
Get a grip, Sienna, I warned myself.
I tilted my head in a questioning motion and he tapped his
index finger on his watch, shushing me inside impatiently. As
if he really thought I would spend the evening with him after I
had to stand poor Jordi up. I had felt his disappointment
through the phone and I couldn’t possibly reply to his offer for
another date. I felt like the biggest asshole and blamed Nikolai
and his arrogance for all of it. Did he think he could just play
with me like that? Well, think again.
With an annoyed expression, I slammed the window shut
and threw myself onto the bed, not bothering to put on any
clothes. He should go alone if he so desperately wants to, I
thought.
Almost half an hour passed, in which I brainlessly scrolled
on my phone. Various articles about the concert in France had
already been published and with each line, my heart bled
more.
Just as I was about to respond to Val’s comment on one of
my posts about my book, someone knocked on the door so
hard my heart stopped for a brief moment. Of course, I knew
who it was, but I took my time straightening up.
“What?” I snapped at Nikolai after opening the door a
crack.
“You’re not even dressed yet,” he snarled, and I could see
that his patience was about to snap.
“If you’re not ready in 15 minutes, I’ll throw you over my
shoulder and carry you to that stupid funfair myself. Don’t test
me.” Something in his look told me he was dead serious, that
he would actually drag me out covered only in a towel.
 We stared at each other like that for a few seconds until I
let out an annoyed groan and slammed the door in his face.
I would go with him, even though I didn’t know why he
insisted, but I certainly wouldn’t have any fun.
15 minutes to the second, I was standing at the entrance. I
had quickly blown-dried my hair so that it flowed straight
down my back and after a moment’s thought, I had decided on
a pair of denim shorts and a white T-shirt with red print.
Nikolai came into view, and I raised an eyebrow.
“Do you really want to go to the funfair like that?” He
looked down at himself in irritation.
“What’s so bad about my outfit?” He was wearing the
same as always, and that was exactly the problem.
“You don’t wear a suit to the funfair. Don’t you have
anything more…casual?” He walked past me out the door and
I followed, trying to keep up with his big strides.
“No,” was the only answer I got.
I stopped him before he could reach his car. Instinctively,
my hand wrapped around his wrist and little bolts of lightning
shot through the spot where our skin met. As quickly as I
touched him, I pulled my hand away. If my sudden physical
contact had surprised him, he didn’t show it.
“We’ll walk,” I said, determined. “It’s only thirty-
minutes.” He was about to pull out the key, but I stepped in his
way.
“We walk or we don’t go at all.” It was unnecessary to
start the engine for such a short distance, and it would be half
an eternity before we would find a parking spot. Besides, I
secretly hoped he would give up and just go back inside.
Nikolai exhaled in annoyance and pinched the bridge of
his nose. “You’re such a pain in the ass,” he said in a near
whisper. “Fine.”
“Let’s go then.” Basking in my small victory, I led the
way, and he reluctantly followed me through the gate.
 The asphalt was covered by a thin layer of sand, carried by
the wind. It cooled my skin on such a humid summer evening
and I was thankful for every breeze.
The glimmering sun was setting beyond us on the horizon,
painting a palette that only nature knew how to master with
oranges and reds blazing across its canvas. With every turn we
made, my heart swelled, touched by an ever-growing beauty
that seemed to infuse my soul. The sounds of seagulls echoed
through our surroundings, providing a chorus so sweet it
drowned out all other noises leading us straight into paradise
itself, and for one moment, I forgot how grumpy I really was.
We reached a commercial street, colourful lanterns over
our heads. Nikolai followed me reluctantly as I walked along
the bustling street, eager to explore the array of boutiques that
lined it. The warm lights illuminated each storefront—cobalt-
blue awnings inviting me inside for something special, brass
handles glinting in salty air. Aromas of freshly baked breads
and sweet pastries wafted out from bakeries as I strolled by.
My gaze flicked from boutique to boutique, admiring each
quirkily decorated window display—handcrafted jewellery
dangling gracefully against wooden mannequins draped in
colourful linens or vibrant silk scarves twinkling beneath glass
shelves dotted with clay sculptures.
“Can we go now?” he asked, annoyed by my gawking.
I couldn’t help but notice the way the women looked at
him, the way they shamelessly checked him out from head to
toe, and something unfamiliar spread across my chest. I
couldn’t really name this feeling and, to be honest, I didn’t
want to. Maybe they were just staring at him because he was,
despite the heat, wearing a suit that was so dark blue it almost
looked black. Or, even if I didn’t like to admit it any more,
because of his raw beauty, his chiselled face or his broad
shoulders. I felt the urgent need to step in front of him, to close
him off from the greedy eyes of the other women, but left it
alone.
“Yes, I’m ready.” I glanced at a pair of silver earrings one
last time before turning away and moving on.
 Then I heard it echoing from the distance; violin and
saxophone music that was uplifting yet simple, reminding me
of the tourist hotspots in Bruxelles.
I strolled down the sidewalk, my eyes drawn to the street
musicians playing their instruments at the corner. Nikolai gave
me an annoyed side look but didn’t bother to comment
something nasty as I reached into my pocket, pulled out some
coins, and placed them in their open case.
There would never be an instance in which I’d go by
without cherishing, acknowledging someone’s talent,
someone’s craft. Art is a universal language that unites,
weaving a tapestry of emotions, stories, and perspectives. It is
a vibrant symphony of colours, shapes, sounds, and words that
resonate with our deepest desires, dreams, and experiences.
In a world filled with chaos and uncertainty, art serves as a
beacon of solace and understanding. It invites us to explore the
depths of our imagination, to question, and to seek truth. It
invites us to see the beauty in the mundane, to find solace in
the darkest of times.
Who would walk by without bathing in the feeling of
liquid notes streaming through their body? I couldn’t.
But we had little time left, so I gave the musicians one last
smile before Nikolai pulled me along. In the distance, I could
see the rollercoasters winding their way through the late
evening. The lights at each loop and dip were brilliant knots of
colour that rose into view as they churned around like stars on
strings.
Hair blew in all directions, and cries of happiness echoed
through the narrow streets. My heart was pounding and I
couldn’t wait to see Nikolai in such a thing, clinging to the
leather of the seats until his knuckles turned white.
“Don’t think I’d step on something like that,” he stated
dryly, and I rolled my eyes.
“Why not? That was the whole point of why we came
here.” I brushed a strand out of my face and eyed him. “Are
you scared?”
 Nikolai snorted. “I’m not scared. I can get that adrenaline
rush from somewhere else. Besides, we’re here for you. I’m
just watching.”
I glared at him.
“I didn’t force you to come. Quite the opposite. You were
the one who bullied me into coming here.” I crossed my arms.
“I’m sure Jordi would have ridden with me.”
“Jordi can suck my dick.” His tone was pure menace, and
the rough sound of his voice sparked something deep in the pit
of my stomach.
“Don’t be so vulgar,” I said half-heartedly.
“I’m sure you secretly like my language, Sunshine.”
Before I could deny it, the large, decorated gates to the funfair
stretched out in front of us.
I stepped closer to the gate, admiring the brightly painted
colours of reds and blues that gave it a cheerful glee. The
entrance was divided into two halves, with an ornate column
dividing them in the centre. Each side sported an intricately
detailed carved wooden horse at its peak, standing guard like
mythical sentinels over what lay within. Accompanying this
marvel were large metal bars at their base that curved outward
as if inviting us inside.
I made my way to the ticket counter, pulling out my wallet
and ready to pay. Before I could get a word in edgewise,
Nikolai appeared beside me, urging me away and placing his
hand firmly on the counter. “Go, I’ll pay,” he said matter-of-
factly.
I was flustered by his gesture, taken aback by this act of
kindness from a man who probably has never been associated
with this adjective.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, and let him pull out his credit
card.
My stomach dropped as I gazed around at the scene before
my eyes. The rollercoasters roared left and right, flashing past
with screaming joy riders clinging desperately to their bar
seats. Everywhere I looked, there was a blur of colours,
motion and laughter; people shrieking in fear—happy to be
feeling truly alive as they raced through the air on these
incredible contraptions that soared and dipped daringly high
above the ground. I felt dizzy just looking at them, but
couldn’t wait to join.
I was waiting for Nikolai, my mind elsewhere, when I felt
someone bump into me. Startled out of my thoughts, it took
me a moment to register the situation. My eyes locked with the
stranger and I mumbled an apology.
The blonde guy wanted to pass by, not giving me a second
thought, but then I felt a sudden presence beside me and
gasped as Nikolai stepped in front of the stranger, snarling at
him, ready to strike if provoked. My heart raced as I watched
him stand guard over me, his posture tense.
“What’s your problem?” the stranger asked in broken
English, surely figured we weren’t from here.
“Give her the phone back or I’ll break your hand.” His
calm voice held a threat I had never seen before.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
In one swift movement, Nikolai had grabbed him by the
hand and twisted it in a rather painful-looking position. The
stranger sucked in a sharp breath and before a security guard
had us in his sights, the blond actually pulled my phone out of
his jacket pocket. With my mouth open, I yanked it out of his
hand and almost kicked him in the balls out of outrage.
“Fuck off,” Nikolai snarled and let him go. The thief
massaged his hand and walked away without another word,
terror in his eyes.
“How did you know?” I asked incredulously as I followed
close behind him, his unique perfume unmistakable even amid
the crowd.
“Everyone knows this trick.” He stopped abruptly. “So do
you want to ride those things or not?”
I was still flustered from the almost-theft, and it took me a
little while to shake off the aftertaste of shock.
 Thinking, I looked around. “With this one?” I pointed to
the pendulum ride on the other side.
Before Nikolai could say anything back, I went ahead,
pushing my way through the crowds until I arrived at the ticket
booth.
“Two,” I said, showing him two fingers. My grumpy
companion intervened.
“One.” The old man looked back and forth between us. “I
told you I wouldn’t ride that thing,” he snarled at me.
“Coward,” I replied, annoyed, and gave the cashier the
money for a ticket. A group of guys stood next to the
employee, who was just allowing the next round of people to
pass.
“You want to sit together?” I asked with a cheeky smile.
One elbowed the other in the ribs. His friend held out his hand
to help me up and just as I was about to grab it, two firm hands
gripped me by the waist and lifted me up so I could easily step
onto the platform. As I turned around, embarrassed, I saw
Nikolai glaring angrily at me. “What?”
“I’m joining you on this stupid ride.” His mood swings
gave me whiplash, I swear.
We took our seats, and he asked the employee three times
if he was properly buckled in. By the fourth time, they just
ignored him and I couldn’t help but giggle.
“Haven’t you ever been on one of these?” I yelled over the
loud music. He gritted his teeth and held onto the safety bars
for dear life.
“Obviously not.” I laughed.
“Not even as a kid?” His eyes darkened and immediately, I
felt bad for ever bringing it up. I had never really thought
about his childhood and it was very tactless of me to assume
that he had had the same opportunities.
“I’m sorr—“ Before I could finish the sentence, the ride
started and barely a few moments later, we were upside down.
 I put my hands in the air and it felt like our feet were
literally touching the sky. My skin prickled with anticipation at
what was to come. Then, suddenly, without warning, we
dropped into a stomach-churning freefall of dizzying speed
that sent my heart racing and took my breath away. The wind
whipped past me in an exhilarating rush as I held on tight
while being launched back and forth on each side like a giant
pendulum in motion; dipping into hair-raising troughs before
soaring straight up again towards the heavens.
It felt like time had stopped around us as we flew through
the air, and I allowed myself to get completely lost in the
moment. I wanted this feeling of pure freedom to last forever.
“You like it?” I yelled, my throat dry and my eyes watery.
He mumbled something, and it sounded suspiciously like
“I hate you.” With my lips pressed together, I put my hand on
his and high above, before we would plunge into the abyss
again, we shared a look so intense it gave me goosebumps.
“I’m here.” His reply was lost in my screeching as we sped
through the night, enjoying a breathtaking view of the old
town.
Before we knew it, the pendulum slowed and came to a
stop.
A shrill noise sounded, and the employee came and opened
all the belts one by one. Nikolai, meanwhile, said nothing.
Only when we had already staggered away a few steps did he
speak again.
“Never again.” His cheeks were rosy and somehow, it
looked cute.
“You’ll learn to love it.” I bumped into him and apologised
as he looked down at me angrily. “So, what are we riding
next?”
Nikolai looked at me as if I had grown another head.
“I’m not riding anything anymore.” Well, we’ll see about
that.
 16

T hree rollercoasters later, he was leaning against the

nearest wall, staring at his fancy shoes.
“Are you feeling sick?” I asked, concerned. He just shook
his head.
“I’m fine.” Nikolai’s greenish face said otherwise. “Just
need a minute.”
“Wait, I’ll get you something,” I said as I stepped away
from him and went to the nearest booth to get a sugar-free
lemonade. Preferably carbonated. That would surely help him
quickly and he would be the old grouch in no time.
With a nod, he accepted the bottle and hastily took two
sips.
“Thank you.” I crossed my arms.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling nauseous?” My
tone had something of a scolding mother and it sounded wrong
to my ears, so I put on a sympathetic look and stepped closer.
“I’m not nauseous,” he replied dryly. “Let’s go.” He made
his way towards the exit, but I stopped him.
“We haven’t won anything yet,” I exclaimed in outrage.
That was one of the best parts of fairs. I was terrible at
winning plushies, but it was fun to try. In the end, I always
spent more money than if I had just bought them in the store,
but it didn’t matter.
 “Alright. One booth—no more.” I clapped my hands,
delighted.
I dragged him to one of the biggest game booths where
you had to shoot at moving targets. That was my favourite.
The bright yellow wheel spun round and round on its post
while its silver branches glinted in the vibrant lights that
flashed across its face intermittently.
I gave the employee a warm smile and asked how much
three rounds would cost me. The old gentleman with light
brown hair told me the price, and I rummaged through my bag
to dig out the cash. By the time I got the money out, Nikolai
had already paid for them. Actually, I didn’t expect him to pay
for everything here. I hadn’t asked for it either. But somehow
that was…sweet. Maybe there was a gentleman behind his
insufferable facade after all.
With steady hands, I clutched my gun tightly while Nikolai
looked at me with an amused expression. His face had
regained a healthy colour, and I was grateful for Ramona’s old
trick with the bitter lemonade.
I turned my gaze back to the now spinning wheel, the
lights glowing brighter than before.
The game was simple. With each shot, I had to match the
number being shouted out and if I hit all of them in order
before the wheel stopped spinning, then I won. My heart
pounded as my finger hovered over the trigger—all it would
take is one split second for me to make my move.
Suddenly, the wheel stopped spinning, and I knew it was
now or never. With a quick squeeze of the trigger, I shot…and
failed miserably.
Nikolai laughed at me shamelessly, loudly, and without
restraint. I gave him a venomous look and tried again, and then
once more. When the last round was over, the employee
looked at me with pity and I’m sure he was about to give me a
small plushie just to wipe away my disappointed expression. I
didn’t want the alms, though.
 “You try,” I said to my companion, who looked at me with
a smug crooked smile.
“No. Let’s go now, G.I. Joe.” I gave him my famous puppy
eyes, and he sighed, but didn’t budge.
“If you’re going to win this—“ I pointed to the biggest
stuffed animal, ”—I’ll tell you why I wrote the book.” He
looked at the shelf with the yellow bunny.
“The one that says I love you on it?” I felt heat rush to my
cheeks, but kept my poker face.
“Have a problem with that?” He exhaled in annoyance and
I knew I had him wrapped around my finger as soon as I
uttered my bribe.
“Fine, move.” He paid for another three rounds and took
the rifle instead of the gun. With a confident stance, he moved
into position and judging by his face, he had already won. I
had to admit that the sight was not bad—quite the opposite.
“Stop gawking.” Had he sensed my stare?
“Am I making you nervous, Nikolai?” I asked
provocatively, and he snorted.
A shrill sound rang out, and the wheel started spinning.
I could hardly believe my eyes when Nikolai hit all the
required targets after three rounds. The guy behind the counter
looked perplexed between him and the wheel.
With a broad smile, I pointed to the prize I wanted, and he
brought it down with a shake of his head.
“Congratulations,” he muttered and handed it to me.
I took the yellow bunny and Nikolai was already walking
away from the game booth, his steps big.
I had trouble keeping up and when I finally reached him,
he gave me a questioning look, expecting my end of the
bargain.
I waited until we reached the exit so I wouldn’t have to
shout over the crowd. Besides, I was starting to feel
uncomfortable amid all the people. My social battery must
have been pretty low and urgently needed to be refilled with
sweet silence and solitude.
Finally, we made it out, and I looked at my watch—almost
midnight.
The sky was a dark, velvety black, and the stars twinkled
in the night. It was like a vast canvas of tiny diamonds—some
glowed brighter than others, while some simply sparkled with
intensity and energy. A sliver of moon flickered across the
horizon and its silver light kissed the blackness that
surrounded it.
The sweet smell of jasmine floated on the breeze, tickling
my nose as I breathed in deeply. It was balanced by the salty
tang coming from the sea, which grew stronger with every step
we took.
Music and laughter faded into the distance before they
were just mere echoes. The cobbled streets were empty apart
from a few couples strolling hand in hand. Street lamps
illuminated the copper shutters on each window, whilst
shadows cast by old buildings loomed over us like guardians
of an ancient time long gone.
“So?” Nikolai began, and I sighed.
“I told you that these books bring me money, right?” He
nodded while watching my features. “Well, the money is not
for me.”
“But?” He frowned.
“For the animal shelter where I work. They’re about to
close. A bake sale would have barely made any money, so I
had done what I did best. I wrote.” He listened without
interrupting me. “There’s a lot of hype about books like that
and they brought in some cash, but not nearly enough to save
the shelter.” A lump formed in my throat. “I tried; I really
did.”
Something like compassion flickered in his hazel eyes. As
quickly as it had come, it was gone.
“Go ahead, make fun of it. Let’s get it over with.”
 “I’ll never make fun of hard-working people.” Perplexed, I
looked up at him. Not an ounce of sarcasm was reflected in his
words. “But why didn’t you choose the easy way out and ask
your father?” I snorted and nearly tripped over a rock. At the
last second, Nikolai grabbed me by the upper arm and it felt
like champagne was flowing through my veins.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but me and my father
don’t exactly have the best relationship. This version of him is
quite new.”
“Why is there this wall between you?” I pressed my lips
into a thin line, “If you don’t mind me asking.”
“It’s complicated.” A fresh breeze blew through the empty
alley we were walking through and I rubbed my upper arms to
get rid of the goosebumps.
Nikolai had noticed and took off his jacket. At first, I
wanted to refuse, but the warm fabric looked just too tempting.
I gratefully put it on and his unique scent wrapped itself
around my senses. I inhaled deeper and for a short moment
enjoyed his cologne around my skin, imagining what it would
be like to bathe in his essence, to lose myself in it completely.
Nikolai’s voice snapped me out of my foolish thoughts.
“Explain it to me anyway.” It took me a second to realise
what he meant.
“I think that deep down, my father hates me. Even if it’s
just a flicker. He sees my mother in me, the future I had taken
away from them. It burns him alive. And I bear the brunt.” I
wiped my damp cheeks. “You laugh at me for putting
everyone else before me, but it was the only way I could
survive. I figured if I was nice and good, my father would take
me back to England. Because I was so very lonely. That was
one of the few times I was selfish, because I knew that my
presence hurt my father.” And sometimes I wanted to hurt
him, I added silently, for all the suffering he had caused me.
“Maybe Christopher just wanted to give you the
opportunities he and Jade never had,” Nikolai cut in, and I
looked off into the distance, watching shadows snake up the
facades like ivy.
“Maybe.” A while passed, during which we walked quietly
side by side. Each was absorbed in their own thoughts and it
was peaceful, somehow.
“Your father loves you, Sienna.” A sad smile flitted across
my lips, but I did not respond. “He can’t undo his actions, and
his behaviour is unforgivable. But there are moments when
you have to let go of the past. You don’t know what the future
holds.” I nodded absently and pulled his jacket closer to my
body.
“Enough about me. I’m sure you have better stories up
your sleeve. Tell me about your family.” He tensed, and I
regretted ever bringing it up. His jaw clenched, making his
features more striking, and I was afraid I had ripped open an
old wound.
“I’d rather not.” I understood. Gosh, who if not me?
“We’re not so different, Sunshine,” he added, and fell silent
again, the night air a blanket of velvet over us.
“What is your favourite colour, then?” What kind of stupid
question was that? I really should have thought of something
better, something where the answer wouldn’t be one word.
Because I wanted him to talk to me, to trust me. Foolish
thoughts, I knew. But still…
Nikolai shrugged. “I don’t have a favourite colour.” I
snorted.
“Everyone has a favourite colour.” I turned my gaze on
him, eyeing his profile. “Or at least a colour he hates the
least.” He thought about it for a moment, or at least pretended
to.
“Black.” I rolled my eyes. Of course…
“Black is not a colour,” I objected.
“Dark grey, then. Happy?” I couldn’t help but laugh out
loud.
 “Mine is green… Or no, wait, yellow.” We arrived at a
narrow winding, our bodies so close I could almost feel the
warmth radiating from him.
“I know,” he uttered in a whisper. Or maybe I had just
imagined it.
The villa soon came into view, and it pained me to admit
it, but I had enjoyed the evening with him, very much so. It
had been refreshing to see Nikolai so relaxed when he thought
I wasn’t looking. And talking to him felt natural in a strange
way. Maybe he was right, maybe we really had more in
common than it seemed. Or maybe I was just trying to
desperately convince myself.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out. I had never thought about how
he must have felt knowing that such a book existed about him,
whether he had felt violated. He probably had. No, he
certainly had. “Because of the book, I mean. I’ll take it down
immediately.“
Nikolai clicked his tongue. “Forget it. I’m rather flattered.
It’s not common that such a prudish shell has such a wicked
mind.”
I punched him in the bicep, rolling my eyes.
“I’m not a prude. I’m mysterious.” I winked at him and he
gave me a smile, an honest one.
“It will be my honour to uncover this mystery.” As soon as
Nikolai realised what he had just said, he turned his gaze away
so I couldn’t read him. Had he really meant it? Or was it one
of his sarcastic comments?
My thoughts revolved only around those two questions as
we entered the house and climbed the stairs together. The air
was charged, and I was sure that I would be electrocuted if I
closed the distance between us.
At the end of the stairs, we faced each other, the situation
awkward. No one said anything until he broke the silence.
“My room is on the other side so…good night.” Had I ever
seen Nikolai Hale being sheepish? The seven wonders of the
world have just gotten a new addition.
 He gave me a look I couldn’t decipher, and the air was full
of expectations and unsaid words.
“Good night,” I finally whispered.
I turned around and could have sworn his fingers had
touched mine.
 17

T he dinner they had served us at this rooftop restaurant

was one of the best I had ever had. The Catalan cuisine
and its spices had set off fireworks in my mouth, and I
knew that my father certainly felt the same way.
I took a sip of my sangria and looked out in wonder at the
city before me. The lights glimmering in the dusk, balconies
full of potted plants, terracotta roofs stretching as far as I could
see—it was truly stunning.
The setting sun illuminated Barcelona’s iconic architecture
with such brilliance that it almost seemed to shimmer with life.
There were people everywhere; some strolling along winding
cobbled streets or stopping for dinner at one of the many
restaurants scattered about town, while others leisurely made
their way up steep hillsides for an even better view from
above.
Soft music played from hidden speakers, lulling me into a
pleasant haze as I inhaled deeply and let my shoulders relax
for what felt like the first time that day.
“I tried your candle yesterday,” he finally said, scratching
his beard. “Really helped.” My father gave me a small smile
and warmth spread across my chest. He really had taken one
of them with him on holiday, and even lit it. I could hardly
believe it.
“Glad to hear it. I can make you more when we get back
home.” He looked at a waiter before shifting his gaze back to
me.
 “That would be nice.” I nodded with a smile on my lips,
tugging at my calf-length dress that had nuzzled around my
curves like a second skin. I had curled my hair in soft waves
and put on some stilettos. It was a special occasion, after all—I
couldn’t remember the last time I went out for dinner with my
father. If that had even happened.
“And are you looking forward to moving back to England
and doing your Master’s at Oxford?” he asked after taking a
few sips of his lemonade. “Or will you miss Belgium?”
I was planning to study in England starting in the winter
semester. My excuse was to make my resume more interesting,
but secretly, I was returning because deep down, I felt
detached from my homeland. All my life I had been a
foreigner, and I was tired of it. “Yes. It was nice while it
lasted, but I miss my roots.” He nodded, his thoughts clearly
elsewhere.
“I look forward to seeing you more often. We can…do
stuff. You know, as a family.” Besides him, I had none left. My
parents and grandparents had been only children. No aunts,
uncles or cousins. That’s why I wanted a big family, so that
after I died, my kids wouldn’t have to be alone in this cold,
cold world.
“Definitely,” I uttered, fighting the lump in my throat. I
couldn’t cry, because if I cried, he’d surely think he’d said
something wrong. And if he thought that, then maybe he
would never bring it up again. But I yearned for his kind
words. So much. And I couldn’t bear being left alone once
more.
If Nikolai had been here, I’m sure he would have laughed
at me for putting my father’s feelings before my own again.
I excused myself, my heels clicking on the black tiles in
the hallway.
The bathroom was spotless and shining, with marble floors
and crystal chandeliers that sparkled against the cream walls.
The smell of spring lilies filled the air as I walked over to the
sinks, all decorated with pearls, glimmering in soft pastel
colours.
 A floor-to-ceiling mirror with gold-bronze frames was
behind it. My reflection stared back at me, makeup still
perfectly in place.
My phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out,
frowning as I saw the person who texted me.
 Nikolai Hale:

Where are you?

I tried to stifle the butterflies in my belly—unsuccessfully so.

Something had changed between us last night. There was a
connection I couldn’t name and probably didn’t want to.
Nikolai meant trouble; a lot of trouble, considering the fact
that he was my dad’s best friend. But that thrill I felt with him,
whether negative or positive, made me feel alive.
 Sienna Mayfield:

At dinner.

I took a picture of myself, showing off my curves. Why not

play with fire a bit? For once, I just wanted to do what I felt
like. And right now, I wanted to annoy Nikolai.
A few moments passed in which nothing came back and I
had already given up on getting an answer until my phone
vibrated again.
 Nikolai Hale:

Take another one.

I bit my lower lip to suppress a grin.

Sienna Mayfield:

Come and see for yourself.

He wouldn’t come anyway, I thought to myself. Sometimes,

Nikolai was so caught up in his work that I thought he would
suffocate. But apparently, he liked this special kind of
masochism. Or he let everyone know; a facade. Secretly, I
believed that he just wanted to distract himself with work from
his inner demons, his past or future, it didn’t matter.
I couldn’t pass judgement whether he succeeded, though at
times, I caught a fleeting glimpse of the same shadows in him
as I found within myself.
I put my phone away and let ice-cold water run over my
wrists to cool me down. Even though the sun had almost set,
the humidity was sometimes too much.
An older lady came in, her outfit like from a fashion
magazine. I caught myself checking her out from top to
bottom, trying to memorise the outfit for later. Maybe I could
get the blazer second-hand, I thought to myself and shook my
head. But it was worth a try.
With dried hands, I made my way back to my dad, who
I’m sure had fallen asleep from boredom. Christopher
Mayfield didn’t belong in this world, didn’t belong with these
people. He loved being at home, watching a game on TV, and
eating leftover pizza. Not a five-course meal at a fancy
restaurant where you had to bribe the waiter with way too
much money to get a table without a reservation. But maybe
he thought it was my world, that I loved luxury and caviar and
gold leaves on medium rare steak. And that’s why he had
chosen this particular place.
And somehow, my heart broke because he didn’t know me
at all.
 “Do you want to go?” I asked as I sat back down at the
table. The waiter had brought me another glass of sangria in
the meantime. This would be my last, I promised myself, for I
could already feel the warmth creeping into my cheeks.
“No, let’s stay a little longer. Nik is already on his way;
he’ll be here in a few minutes.” I choked on a piece of orange.
“Why?” It came out harsher than intended. My father just
shrugged, his white shirt loose around his biceps. He had
gotten thinner somehow, and I made a mental note to try a few
new recipes.
“He said he was in the area. Business stuff and all.” Hmm.
Of course.
I sat back and looked out into the distance, watching the
purple hues get swallowed by the blackness of a starless night.
“And do you know what you’re doing after you graduate?”
my father asked a few moments later, snapping me out of my
thoughts. I considered.
“I still have a little time left. Maybe writing, maybe
something in marketing. Who knows?” I shrugged, and he
nodded.
“Don’t put any pressure on yourself. We Mayfields find
our way.” I snorted in amusement. That was yet to be seen.
Just as I was about to say something back, I heard heavy
footsteps behind me, coming closer. A gentle breeze blew his
signature cologne in my direction, and it smelled like my
favourite symphony, my dearest song. Damn it, Si, pull
yourself together, I admonished myself.
He placed his warm hand between my shoulder blades, and
I didn’t dare look back.
“I’m sorry you had to wait for me,” Nikolai said in his
deep, husky voice. He had really come. For a few moments,
his hand remained on my bare skin and a shiver spread across
my whole body. I imagined those rough fingers moving along
my spine, grabbing me by the hips and—stop.
 I hadn’t had sex in far too long and my body was slowly
but surely going mad. A man—no matter how insufferable and
rude—had to touch my back, and I cracked. Pathetic.
“Is this your Sunday best?” Nikolai asked with amusement
as he settled into the vacant seat next to me.
Did he just make fun of my outfit after asking me for
another picture?
“One of them. Do you like it?” I asked in a sweet voice.
My father gave me a puzzled expression, but I paid him no
attention.
Nikolai clenched his jaw without looking at me. Of course
he liked it.
“I have a better one, though. In two days, there’s a dance
class at the beach bar not far from the villa and I thought I’d
drop by. Maybe I’ll make some friends.” They didn’t need to
know that this class included an all-you-can-drink ticket.
Nikolai’s face shot in my direction and the look in his eyes
told me he didn’t like my plan at all.
“That’s a good idea. We must be boring you already. Too
bad your girlfriends aren’t here,” my father said, and I nodded.
“I’m sure it will be really fun. There will even be an
instructor and everyone will pick a dance partner.” My gaze
drifted to Nikolai, who had his hand clenched into a fist.
“Are you sure you want to go?” he finally asked, more of a
warning than a question.
“Yes. I need an opportunity to wear my actual Sunday
best.” I took a sip of my sangria. “You have a problem with
that?” My father looked visibly uncomfortable, and his skin
had taken on an unusual pallor.
“Are you not feeling well?” I asked him, clearly
concerned.
He shook his head and exchanged a look with his best
friend that I couldn’t interpret.
“I’m fine. Come on, let’s go. It’s getting too crowded
here.” I looked around, but there were even fewer people than
when we had arrived. Maybe he really wasn’t feeling well, or
maybe the fish he had eaten hadn’t been fresh. I blamed it on
male pride, though.
My father gestured to the waiter that we wanted to pay and
after he did so, we made our way to Nikolai’s car, which was
waiting in the underground car park.
In the bright neon light, the paint looked even shinier. Like
a starless sky that had never been kissed by the sun.
We got into the car, and Nikolai sped through the city, past
honking cars and motorcyclists. Their lights became red-
yellow dots in the distance, and I clawed so hard into the
passenger handle my muscles ached.
“Slow down,” I hissed, and I could hear Nikolai’s dark
laugh echoing through the car.
“I like it faster.” I rolled my eyes at that stupid comment,
but was sure he hadn’t seen it. Only the sporadic streetlights
illuminated our features before ceding us to the silent
darkness. Maybe it was better that way. The less I could see
his face, the better.
I had lost myself completely in the radio music and only
realised we had arrived when the car came to an unpleasant
halt.
With wobbly legs and a stiff hand, I stepped out of the car,
the sea breeze playing around my face.
“You are an insufferable driver,” I said as we passed,
giving him my meanest look, while my father walked a few
steps behind us.
“You could have crawled home, you know?” he whispered
in a challenging tone, not holding the door open for me as he
walked into the house.
“Bet you’d die to see me on all fours, wouldn’t you?” Only
when the words came out did I realise how false, how
suggestive they sounded. He snorted, but didn’t deny it, which
somehow unsettled me more.
My father burst in, exhaustion in his eyes.
 “Do you feel like watching a movie?” he asked, out of
breath, as if he had run a marathon.
“Yes,” I blurted out, while Nikolai denied grumpily at the
same time. Why was he always so tense? Did he feel that
uncomfortable with us?
“Long live democracy,” I declared with a wink, and
headed off to change into something more comfortable.
Freshly showered and in pyjamas, I walked into the
kitchen, my dad already on the couch, wrapped in a blanket.
How could he possibly be cold? I shook my head.
“I’ll make some popcorn,” I announced loudly, so he could
hear me over the voices on the TV.
In the fourth drawer from the right, I finally found the
popcorn and threw it into the microwave.
Suddenly, my neck tingled, and I felt eyes—his eyes—on
me, on my back and then further and further down.
With an annoyed look on my face, I turned around.
“Are you done staring?” I got back to the spinning glass
plate in the microwave.
Nikolai’s footsteps came closer until I could feel his body
inches from mine. He caged me in and lowered his face, his
cheek close to my ear.
My pride forbade me to flinch, to give him the satisfaction
of showing fear.
“Do you want me to be done?” Nikolai’s deep voice was
so close, his minty breath tickling my earlobe.
Did I? His presence confused me on every possible level.
“Yes or no, Sunshine?”
What did he want from me? What was he trying to
accomplish with this question? Nikolai took another step
closer so that my back was pressed against him, his heartbeat
echoing through me.
“Say it and I’ll let you go. Otherwise, your father will find
us like this, with your ass pressed against my dick.” He was
impossible, thought he could just play with me however and
whenever he wanted.
And yes, his dick was indeed pressed against my butt; I
could feel him when moving.
Nikolai gripped the edge of the countertop so hard that his
knuckles turned white, and somehow, that gesture alone totally
turned me on. Warmth spread right through my core, and no
matter how much I loathed him, I was on the brink of begging
him to touch me where I needed it most. Gosh, this was
wrong, so, so wrong.
“I-I want you to be done,” I brought out between gritted
teeth.
His laugh made my chest vibrate and I would have liked to
elbow him, but my arms just hung uselessly down my body.
“Liar,” he whispered in my ear, his voice like a silent
summer breeze.
I wanted to look him in the eye, analyse his features, but
when I turned my head, his lips brushed my cheekbone. No…
A shiver cascaded down my spine, as if a delicate whisper
of winter’s breath had kissed my skin, and I felt the searing
imprint of his touch etching itself into the tapestry of my mind.
Undo it, I silently screamed at him, take it back. But he
didn’t hear me, just stood there frozen, unable to say anything.
The air was thick with unspoken words that swarmed around
us like planets in a solar system. He was the moon, creating
waves woven out of questions and doubts while I was the sun,
burning, for his cooling touch.
As if awakened from a stupor, Nikolai took a step back and
I flinched noticeably as the ping of the microwave echoed
through the kitchen.
Slowly, I went to glance over my shoulder at him, but he
was already gone. Only the faint scent of his cologne lingered
in the air, a reminder of what had just happened.
I pressed play and made myself comfortable on the couch. My
father was sitting with a blanket on his lap in the centre and
Nikolai was to his right, eyes focused on the TV screen.
Tonight, I could choose what we were watching, and I had
shamelessly taken advantage of that. The intro for the corniest
romance movie ever appeared, and out of the corner of my
eye, I saw Nikolai scrunch his nose. The silence between us
was replaced by the background music and the crunch of
popcorn.
My dad patted my knee and gave me a warm smile, so
unusual I could barely handle it. Awkwardly, I smiled back
until I shifted my attention back to the TV.
Minutes passed, then half an hour. When a soft snore
sounded next to me, I knew my father had fallen asleep, his
hand still in the bowl of popcorn. His head slumped to the side
and landed on my shoulder, his beard tickling my shoulder. It
was the first time such had happened. Never before had he
been so comfortable with me and I was afraid to bathe in this
feeling of security, because it could be ripped away from me at
any moment, shredding me whole.
Gently, I leaned my cheek against his head.
My dad smelled of citrus shower gel and clothes fresh
from the wash—soothing, familiar. And yet not. Actually, I
didn’t know what he normally smelled like. And that
realisation shook awake the emptiness inside me, the dark hole
in my soul.
My melancholy was abruptly interrupted by…a sex scene.
Oh no. I had completely forgotten that this movie was not
exactly PG. With an inner prayer, I thanked all sorts of gods
that my father had already fallen asleep. It would have been
far too embarrassing to watch the two of them ripping their
clothes off and doing it like maniacs on the couch while he
was casually sitting beside me, munching on his popcorn.
 Nervously fidgeting with the blanket, I suddenly felt
something gently tugging at my hair. Not something—Nikolai.
He had absently wrapped one of my curls around his finger,
playing with it. And I liked it, very much so, to my
displeasure. It was soothing.
I would have loved to lift my head and catch a glimpse of
him, to watch his expression, read his thoughts reflected in his
hazel eyes. But if I would have moved, I would have surely
scared him off and woken up my father. So I stayed still, time
stopping for a moment. Veiled by darkness, it was easy to
show these affections, small gestures that might mean nothing
in daylight. But in the thick silence of the night, blonde locks
around long fingers meant more.
And that was terrifying. And exciting. And it had to stop.
18
 NIKOLAI

T he little monster had successfully ignored me all day

and, to my displeasure, I found myself pondering every
so often what she might be doing. Chris had told me she
had gone into town to buy souvenirs for her friends and I had
to admit that the house was too quiet without her constant
chatter.
“Did you dig out the numbers for the next project?” My
biggest competitor had made some unusual investments lately,
and I had to get to the bottom of it. So far, I had always been
one step ahead of him and, thanks to Chris, it would stay that
way.
“In a minute,” he replied, typing something into his laptop,
the coding language looking like Chinese to me.
I checked my phone—no message, no call. Sienna had
been gone far too long. Maybe she had twisted her ankle and
fallen, hitting her head. Maybe she was bleeding to death in a
filthy alley as we sat here, drinking coffee. Irrational images
surfaced in my mind’s eye and I tried to push them away. Get
a grip, you’re a grown man.
Just as I was about to tell Christopher to call her and check
on things, the front door opened. My shoulders relaxed as I
saw her strutting into the kitchen with umpteen bags,
unharmed, of course. After grabbing a bottle of water from the
fridge, she proudly showed off her new sunglasses to her
father.
 “I even bargained,” she said, her cheeks slightly pink from
the strong sun. “And if you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’d
like to take an ice-cold shower.” Just as I have since last night,
I thought to myself.
Sienna left us and we didn’t say a word until I heard her
door close.
“How long are you going to keep this up, Chris?” I
snapped at my friend. We’d had this conversation a zillion
times before and nothing good had ever come of it.
“It’s not your business, Nik.” I snorted.
“Not my business? Then who has to pick up the pieces?
You know I’m not cut out for that.” Chris shook his head.
“You promised.” I moved closer to him and it was damn
hard not to raise my voice.
“You were selfish and didn’t give me a choice.” He cocked
his head, and we both knew that was a lie. It was either turn
my back on him and maybe end up in hell, if it even existed by
any human standard, or stand by my best friend, helping him
through everything.
“Sienna will never forgive you for lying to her,” I said,
shooting my last bolt. Chris’s eyes darkened, taking in the kind
of grief that shouldn’t be humanly possible.
“Si will never forgive me for a lot of things. For not being
able to love her the way she deserved, for not being able to
bear her near me. These things guarantee me the best seat in
hell. So a little lie won’t make much difference.” Such a self-
centred asshole.
“But she has to live with the consequences, not you.” He
slammed the laptop shut.
“I don’t want to fight with you, not about this, not here, not
now,” he snarled, his lips sallow. I pinched the bridge of my
nose.
“I don’t want to argue either. But try to understand me; I’m
caught in the middle. And at the end of the day, I’m the one
who’s going to get her wrath.” He furrowed his brows, looking
at me intently.
“I didn’t know you’d be so affected by my daughter’s
anger.” Without looking at him, I took a sip of water.
“I’m not. But I hate drama,” I said curtly, hoping he would
drop the subject.
“Just let me have this summer. I want to enjoy it with
Sienna.” He took a deep breath. “And then all hell can break
loose. Please, promise me you won’t say anything.” He was a
fucking asshole for taking advantage of this situation to shut
me up. It wasn’t fair. I had done enough and more. But looking
at him, dark circles under his eyes and all, I couldn’t help but
give in. He was my oldest friend. We had eaten from the same
plate, his mother had given me clothes and baked for us on
Sundays. How could I betray him?
“Fine. One summer.”
And with that, I knew Sienna would hate me forever.

I STEPPED out onto the patio, the moon already long at its
zenith. Today’s events, coupled with problems in the New
York office, had drained me. All I wanted to do was sit out
here, stare at the terracotta roofs, and think in peace.
But then I saw Sienna lying on a sun lounger reading a
book, the small reading lamp in the shape of a sun. When she
lifted her gaze, her lips twisted into an awkward smile.
“Why aren’t you asleep?” I asked while walking towards
her, my black shorts and T-shirt making me almost invisible in
the shadows cast by the facade.
“It’s about to get really exciting.” She waved the book. I
was wondering if it was another one of her dirty books, but
pushed that thought away for another evening.
With tired legs and a stiff back, I lay down next to her, and
we looked at each other for long moments. It was peaceful.
 “Tell me about yourself, Mr Hale.” I shook my head,
already knowing this game. Still, I said the same phrase as last
time.
“Is this supposed to be a job interview?” She giggled, and
it sounded so easy, so carefree. I had to avert my face, my
gaze. But it was as if a spell was cast by her spirit, calling me
to her.
“Stop and answer my question.” A hint of impatience
echoed in her words as it did every time I annoyed her. And I
loved it. Well, almost as much as reading through my annual
reports.
“What do you want to know?” She sat up, crossing her
long legs. Involuntarily, my gaze travelled along them like the
hands of a lover. The picture she had sent me came back to my
mind. Her dress had hugged her in just the right places, her
curves like those of a goddess. But what I liked most was her
mischievous expression. A smile with which she could wrap
everyone around her finger.
“Did you hear what I said?” Sienna asked, snapping me
out of my thoughts. Just in time.
“What?” She let out an irritated sigh.
“Tell me about your former lovers.” I jerked upright, the
subject far too random.
“You really want me to talk about my exes?” She put her
book aside and grabbed one of the chocolate balls from the
crystal bowl that lay on a small table between our loungers.
“Sure. Why not?” she asked, and I rolled my eyes. This
topic was more than moronic. I almost would have preferred
her to keep asking me about my favourite colours or anything
else I didn’t have an answer for.
“I don’t have much to tell,” I finally said, “there were a
few, but it was never really serious between us. I knew why
they were there and they knew I didn’t love them.” She stared
at me in horror, which looked kind of cute.
“But then, why were you together?” I considered.
 “Two people being lonely together is still better than being
lonely alone. It’s toxic. But it eases the numbness.” I left out
the fact that women stayed with me mainly for my money, not
my charm. But I thought Sienna could already guess that.
She took a deep breath, hesitated, and then said it anyway.
“You deserve nothing less than extraordinary love, the kind
that sees your worth and treasures every part of your soul.”
“The insufferable part, too?” She gave me a smile that I
could feel all the way to my fingertips.
“Especially that one.”
I shook my head and reached into the crystal bowl for one
of her chocolate balls that she had been eating the whole time.
Sienna reached out and tried to knock it out of my hand, but
by then, I had already shoved it into my mouth. And I froze.
“No, Niko, there’s rum in them,” she said, but it was too
late. The caramel sweet taste spread across my mouth and
before I could stop it, the alcohol was flowing down my throat,
leaving a hot sensation behind. I gagged, coughed, but
couldn’t undo it. An overwhelming sense of terror crept into
every pore of my body and my breath stopped, my throat
tightening. My heartbeat doubled until it was beating so fast, I
could feel it all the way to my ears. At that moment, I thought
I was going to die. Yes, my end had come; here, now. My body
no longer obeyed me and a tremor covered my hands, my
arms, my whole body.
“What’s wrong?” Sienna knelt before me, but I could
barely make out her face; my vision blurry. I felt her hands on
my shoulders, shaking me, her fingers trembling. Or was it the
echo of my body?
“I can’t breathe,” I hissed, and would have collapsed to the
side if she hadn’t been holding me.
“Are you allergic?” I shook my head, barely noticeable. A
panic attack. In front of her. My chest ached immeasurably. Is
this what a heart attack felt like?
I wanted to get away, away from her, from this patio, from
this house. You are just like your father, the voice carved in
my mind whispered.
No…yes, I was. I felt numb, and everything was spinning.
I wanted to get up, but I couldn’t.
Sienna rested my head on her chest, only a piece of thin
fabric separating me from her tanned skin. I wanted to turn
away.
“You’re safe,” she whispered, her fingers stroking my
sweaty hair. “I’m with you.” I tried to breathe, but couldn’t.
“Copy me.” She breathed deeply in and out, moving my
head with her rhythm. I dug my fingers into her ribs. Her
heart, so strong and pure, pounded against my cheek. An
anchor.
“This will pass,” she whispered over and over, still
pressing my head protectively to her chest, breathing at a slow
pace. Sienna was here; I wasn’t alone, I told myself as I tried
to match my breathing with hers.
“That’s right.” No, it wasn’t. None of this was right. “One
more time.” I breathed like someone with pneumonia. Despite
that, I went on as she guided me through the terror that had
taken possession of my body.
“Name four things you can touch,” she asked in her
angelic voice. I opened my mouth, but the words would not
come out. “Nikolai?”
“Your T-shirt,” I pressed out, and she nodded.
“Very good, go on.” I swallowed, my throat dry as dust
and the taste of rum still on my tongue.
“Your skin.” I ran my cramped hands over her hips to
make sure she was really here. “The padding on the sun
lounger.” Slowly, far too slowly, the pressure in my chest
released.
“Your hair around my face.” She swallowed, but didn’t
stop breathing in sync with me, her fingertips tracing little
circles on the back of my head.
“One thing you can smell…” I breathed in deeper,
focusing on my senses. The terror left my legs, my arms. And
yet, it wasn’t enough.
“Your perfume. I smell it everywhere I go.” I almost
laughed. “Does that count?” I felt her chest vibrate, just for a
moment.
“Yes, it does.”
But I didn’t think it was perfume. It was her. Her essence.
“Have you done this before?” I asked in a trembling voice,
my hands still tight around her hips. She didn’t answer, and yet
that was enough.
Sienna had panic attacks, too.
Slowly, my shoulders relaxed and the pain in my body
ebbed until only fine embers pulsed through my veins. I could
think more clearly, feel more clearly, and all too quickly
became aware of this situation, of our proximity.
“It’s okay,” she said, as if reading my mind. I remained in
that position for another moment, feeling her, her soft skin,
sucking in her scent, until finally, I broke away and looked
into her blue eyes, the colour of waves.
Sienna’s gaze held something I didn’t understand and
yet… No.
I didn’t know how to thank her, what words to choose, but
she spoke first, her voice calm. “Do you have that…often?”
she asked. I shook my head.
“You?” She nodded and another, much more primal pain
pierced my heart.
I pulled her close to me, and her eyes widened. Sienna’s
body heat mixed with mine, the air thick between us.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and she shook her head.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Her grip on the back of
my head tightened, as if she was afraid, I would run away at
any moment.
“Sienna?” Her eyes were closed, her lips pale.
“Hmm?” she purred.
 “We should go to sleep.” My voice was barely a whisper.
As if from a trance, her eyes snapped open, her expression
inscrutable yet soft.
“Let’s go to sleep, then.”
 19

I t was after three o’clock by now, and the house was

plunged in complete stillness. Only my muffled footsteps
echoed through the corridor as I walked to Nikolai’s
bedroom. We had said goodbye like awkward kids at the end
of the stairs and finally went to our rooms.
But I couldn’t sleep so I had decided to check on him. The
events of the last few hours had shaken me up, and my heart
skipped a beat every time I thought of his tortured expression.
Damn, he had given me such a scare. Luckily, my touch had
calmed him down, otherwise I wouldn’t have known what to
do, because I, myself, had always been alone in these kinds of
situations.
Nikolai’s door was not locked, so I knocked softly, but he
did not answer. With sweaty hands, I opened the door and
went in, his room illuminated by the shimmer of the moon.
The blue light caught his face and made it look more striking,
and yet he had something soft, something angelic about him.
“Nikolai?” I whispered to make sure he was asleep. Like a
creep, I moved closer to his bed. The rise and fall of his chest
was deep and steady.
He looked carefree, sound asleep. Good.
A stray strand of hair had caught in his eye and I
desperately wanted to reach out and brush it away, but that
would have broken all sorts of boundaries. No. Sleeping, you
were the most vulnerable. And I had no right to touch him, so I
took a step back. He mumbled something unintelligible in his
sleep and I almost smiled if it weren’t for the heaviness around
my heart.
The images of him with pure panic in his eyes had burned
themselves into my brain and I would certainly not be able to
banish them.
But why had he suffered so much in the first place?
Because of a little rum? There had to be more to it than that.
Maybe a shadow of the past had caught his breath. Maybe he
had experienced something no kid, no human should
experience.
I knew it wasn’t my place to demand answers from him,
but I would have liked to know what demons haunted him,
what blades had bored deep into his soul. Not because I was
curious, but so that I could know how to help him heal.
Be more selfish, the voice in my mind whispered. I can’t, I
replied. Not with him. Not anymore. It was too late. I had to
face that.
With my heart pounding, I left the room, and it felt as if he
had been whispering Sunshine.
 20

D inner was coming to an end, and I couldn’t wait to get

ready for the dance class at the beach bar. Nikolai had
not really been talkative today and my father had also
hardly said a word. Normally, I would have thought nothing of
it, but this time it was different—something was weighing on
him. He was absent, with his thoughts somewhere else, and
even though I felt concerned, I didn’t want to pry.
“I’ll get ready then.” He looked up from his now empty
plate.
“Do you have plans for tonight?” I nodded. He’d probably
forgotten.
“Heading down to the beach. It’s nothing big, just some
cocktails and dancing. Maybe I’ll make some friends.”
Nikolai’s gaze rested on me, his eyes a storm full of…full of
what? Jealousy?
“Let me know if you need me to pick you up or if you’re
uncomfortable. You can always call me and I’ll wake up and
fetch you,” he assured, fatigue written all over his face. This
newfound affection was strange. I wasn’t used to him asking
about my day, well-being, or plans. And that my father offered
to pick me up from a semi-party was nothing short of a
miracle.
“Thank you. If anything comes up, I’ll give you a call.” A
satisfied smile appeared on his lips and I returned it. I
wondered if it would stay like that forever or if he would
change again after Spain. Don’t be so pessimistic, I urged. No,
our bond would grow stronger and stronger and he would
become the person I had always wanted, always needed.
My father got up to take some of the dishes into the
kitchen. At the door, he staggered, and I had almost thought he
had gotten a little drunk, but then my eyes fell on his full glass.
He hadn’t taken a sip from it all evening.
“You’re not going to that bar,” Nikolai sneered as soon as
my father was out of earshot, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, is that so?” I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Since when do I need your permission?” I added, amused.
However, he wasn’t impressed by my words.
“You don’t know anyone there.” Nikolai looked at me
pointedly. A warning.
“Well, you can come with me. Then I know you.” This
invitation was, of course, superficial. Obviously, Nikolai Hale
would never go to a dance class.
“I’m certainly not going to a dance class.” See? I shook
my head and got up, taking some plates with me and
disappearing into the kitchen. My father had already gone
upstairs to rest, and I wondered if he had had a busy day today.
After all, it was only eight o’clock. I quickly wiped the kitchen
counter before disappearing into my room to get ready. Time
was pressing and happy hour wouldn’t last forever. Besides, I
had promised the girls to send them pictures of the hot
instructor. His face on the flyer had caught my eye
immediately, and I certainly didn’t mind him teaching me
some cultural…things.

M Y RED HEELED sandals clicked with every step I took down

the stairs. I had chosen to wear the short, red, silk dress with
spaghetti straps and secretly thanked Blair for her insistence
on taking it with me to Spain. Also, I had put on a delicate
necklace, the pearls dainty and elegant. It looked stunning.
 I had my blow-dried hair in soft waves, which, in the right
light, made the blonde glow.
As the door came into view, I paused, one hand clasped
around the railing.
“What do you want?” I asked, and it came out more
snappish than I intended. Nikolai stood at the door in a blue
suit as dark as the ocean at night, his face tense. My gaze
roamed over his broad shoulders, his face. I was shocked to
see he had even styled his hair. And what was that smell? Had
he put on perfume?
“I’ll accompany you,” he said in a tone as though I asked
the most moronic question on earth.
“No, you won’t,” I stated, irritated, and closed the distance
between us. His tall build blocked my path, and I had to tilt my
head back to look him in the eye.
“Either you go with me or not at all.” For a millisecond, I
had imagined he was inspecting my outfit from top to bottom,
his gaze resting on my hips and my cleavage.
Annoyed, I tried to walk past him, but I didn’t stand a
chance. “I’m serious, Sunshine. It would be far too easy to
throw you over my shoulder and chain you to your bed. Don’t
test me.” I crossed my arms.
“Is that so?” He didn’t respond to my comment and instead
opened the door. To my amazement, he gestured for me to go
ahead. But the fact that he had the decency to hold the door
open for me for once didn’t make up for him being there to
ruin my night. “Fine. But don’t you dare spoil my fun,” I said
in resignation, walking towards the gate.
“What makes you think I would spoil your fun?” he asked
in his typical sarcastic style.
“You’re right. How can you not have the time of your life
when your tablemate is eyeing everyone like prey?” He didn’t
reply.
Together, we stepped through the grand gate, the air humid
and warm around us. “Why are you dressed so…formally,
anyway? We’re going to the beach, not to a corporate
meeting.” Two steps later, Nikolai had caught up with me.
“I like to wear nice things.” That was the only answer I
would get. Unsure, I had to look down at myself. Maybe the
dress was too much, or the high heels were too short and it
looked weird…
I was about to tie my hair up in a ponytail to look more
casual when Nikolai slapped my hands away.
“Leave it down.” I gave him a sidelong glance.
“Do you like it this way?” I asked sweetly, already seeing
the answer in his eyes.
“At least it doesn’t look completely hideous.” Ouch.
“Charming.”
We walked side by side in silence for a while, his footsteps
almost soundless. The moon shone brightly over our heads,
casting its pale light on every car and every tree. In the
distance, I could hear the gentle waves, nature’s seductive
calls. Crickets chirped in their hiding places and a few locals
walked past us with intertwined fingers. It was peaceful, and
yet there was the last bit of anger I felt towards Nikolai. I
could take care of myself; I didn’t need a bodyguard. But there
was nothing I could do about his presence, so I tried to make
the best out of the situation.
We left the walkway and turned left onto the wooden path
on the beach that led to the bar in the far back. Colourful lights
greeted us in the distance, an invitation to lose ourselves in
sticky glasses and slurred words.
“We are almost there,” I assured my escort and picked up
my pace. Fine sand had already collected between my toes and
rubbed uncomfortably against my feet.
Nikolai didn’t retort, and I was surprised that he hadn’t
already started complaining about the sand on his far too
expensive shoes or the humidity that left a disgusting film on
his skin.
 As we drew nearer, the enchanting melody of a Spanish
guitar cascaded through the air, growing louder with each step.
Its lively and passionate tune wove a tapestry of musical
enchantment, wrapping me in its embrace. The notes danced
and flirted with the breeze, creating a symphony of sounds that
stirred my soul.
A subtle chill grazed my skin, heightening my senses, and
whispered of anticipation. The air was adorned with a myriad
of colours, emanating from the dozens of fairy lights over our
heads. Like scattered stars, they cast a fantastical glow,
illuminating the scene below, dipping our hair in red and blue
and golden hues.
Strong yet gentle voices harmonised, their melodic strains
blending seamlessly with the instrumental prowess, and eager
ears drank in every syllable, absorbing the lyrics that resonated
deep within their core.
Amidst this magical atmosphere, couples swayed
gracefully, their movements guided by the rhythms of the
band. Small tables adorned the makeshift dance floor where
the instructor would soon hold his course.
“Let’s go to the bar,” I said, leading the way past beautiful
women in summer dresses and handsome men who wanted to
engage them in conversation.
The round counter, its wood painted white, was the
centrepiece of this place. Behind, bartenders busied
themselves mixing drinks and laughing with the guests. Some
of them were doing cool tricks with the alcohol bottles, and I
found myself grinning with excitement.
I sat down on one of the bar stools and Nikolai did the
same, while he inspected the surroundings like enemy
territory. Shaking my head, I took the drinks menu and flicked
through it. But before the bartender could come and ask me
what I’d like to drink, I risked an indecisive glance at Nikolai.
“Do you mind if I, you know…” I pointed to the alcohol
selection. He rolled his eyes.
 “Have I ever minded before? Do what you want.” Fine. I
bit my lip as I weighed my options.
A handsome young staff member with shaggy blonde hair
approached and asked what we wanted—first in Spanish and,
after seeing my helpless expression, in English.
Nikolai was about to pay, but the guy told him we still had
a little time left to enjoy happy hour.
Turning to me, he gave me a knowing look, surely figuring
why I wanted to come here so badly. Well…guilty.
“Thank you,” I mumbled awkwardly, before taking my
first sip.
The sweet nectar and the tart taste of the alcohol spread
across my tongue and I almost rolled my eyes at the aroma.
Damn, that was one of the best cocktails ever. I took more
big swigs, too thirsty to stop. Nikolai furrowed his brow but
didn’t utter a word. If it went on like this, he wouldn’t
sabotage my night after all.
I was about to order another cocktail, but Nikolai spoke
up, irritated, “Are you sure? I’m not keen on carrying you
home.”
In response, I waved at the bartender.
A while passed, during which we rigidly listened to the
music, which grew louder and louder.
My date took off his jacket, his defined arms straining
against the material of his button-down shirt.
At some point, a beautiful local had approached him, her
long legs tanned and glowing. He had barely looked at her
before she finally pulled away, scowling. I didn’t miss the
playful glances women of all ages cast in our direction and
most of them were certainly not directed at me.
My hand clenched into a fist.
I was not jealous. At least I had been telling myself so
every two minutes. Once a guy, probably my age, had dared to
come up to me and whisper something unintelligible in my
ear, but one look at Nikolai had been enough to make him run
away with a panicked expression on his face.
“If you keep shooting daggers out of your eyes, no one
will dare speak to me again,” I hissed three cocktails later.
“I am speaking to you. That’s enough.” I snorted. No, it’s
surely not. My cheeks were heated from the alcohol and I
could feel the drinks slowly taking effect.
“And what if I want to get laid?” I blurted out. Nikolai’s
head snapped in my direction. Amusement flickered in his
eyes and yet…they held a certain warning.
He moved closer until his lips could almost touch my ear. I
inhaled deeply. God, his perfume…
“Do you want me to say I’ll take care of that, too?”
I almost spat out my drink. This question in combination
with his proximity had taken me completely by surprise.
Without wanting to, images, forbidden images, flashed before
my eyes and I cursed myself for not having banished them
immediately.
“Would you?” I asked, forcing myself to appear
unbothered. Nikolai’s deep laugh pierced my very marrow.
“No,” he replied, and I could hear the sarcastic smile in his
voice. Asshole.
Luckily, we were interrupted by the clapping of the crowd
—the dance instructor had arrived. From the looks of it, he had
a pretty wide fan base. Girls flocked to him and I found myself
desperately trying to catch a glimpse of his face.
“I’ll go get a better look,” I said and put my empty glass
on the counter. Nikolai wanted to protest, but by then, I had
already left him behind.
The instructor, Andre, looked even better in person.
Discreetly, I took out my phone and wedged myself between
the girls to keep my promise to my friends.
A moment later, numerous pictures, some very blurry,
landed in our group chat. Satisfied, I put the phone away again
and the guy with the athletic figure and the dark, curly hair
spoke up.
His golden eyes glittered under the colourful lights that
brought out his striking features.
He asked the participants to find a partner and spread out
on the dance floor. My gaze involuntarily darted in Nikolai’s
direction, who was still sitting on the bar stool, his back to the
bartenders. He looked bemused, his arms challengingly
crossed.
A warm hand grabbed mine, snapping me out of my
thoughts.
Andre kissed the back of my hand, his lips soft on my skin.
Like a schoolgirl, I grinned at him and he returned it, his teeth
perfect.
“I need an assistant,” he said in his charming accent. “Do
you want to help me?” Unable to say anything, I just nodded
and followed him to the front.
The music turned down a bit so people could hear him
better. After a few introductory words, Andre took my left
hand in his, my cheeks no longer pink from the alcohol, but
from his proximity.
Out of instinct, I placed my other hand on his shoulder and
he put his on my lower back.
“Get into position,” he told the others, and they did.
He showed them the basic steps, and I could keep up
easily.
“You’re doing really well. Where did you learn to dance
bachata?” he whispered in my ear.
“I took one or two classes in college,” I returned and he
nodded, pleased.
Andre needed to hear no more, because in the next second,
he whirled me around, my hair flying through the air.
Immediately, our chests touched again, his body practically
pressed against me. The music started playing louder again,
and the other participants followed suit. Some very
professionally, some a little more awkwardly.
Andre showed them a new move and soon people didn’t
need his instructions anymore, but danced as if it was the most
natural thing in the world for them.
In an undisturbed moment, he pulled me to his chest again,
and we moved to the rhythm of the music.
“You are really beautiful,” he said to my ear, his voice like
warm honey. My fingers stroked the fine hairs at the base of
his neck. “What’s your name?”
“Sienna,” I answered breathlessly.
Andre drew out my name, savouring each letter. It sounded
almost seductive coming out of his mouth.
A little shriek, which turned into laughter, came from my
lips as he spun me around.
“You don’t look bad either.” He chuckled and thanked me,
his hand loosely on my hip, guiding me into the positions he
wanted me in.
Andre tilted his head and his lips touched my cheekbone,
just barely, but still I got red like a tomato.
Somehow, I wanted him to understand that I wasn’t
entirely averse to spending two or three more hours with him
after class, but I didn’t know how. Ramona was the better
choice in such matters. She always knew what to say and how
to wrap men around her finger like there was nothing easier.
“Say it,” my instructor whispered, and I gave him a
perplexed look. “I can tell you have a question.” It’s now or
never, Sienna. Don’t be such a wimp.
“Do you want—“ But my stammering was interrupted by a
strong hand on my shoulder.
I looked to the side—Nikolai was standing next to me, his
face unreadable.
“What do you want?” It had been obvious that Andre and I
were busy.
 “I think that was enough dancing,” he replied coolly.
Andre looked back and forth, trying to read into the whole
situation.
“We were done anyway,” he finally said, breaking away
from me. No…
“But—“, I wanted to protest, but Nikolai was already
pulling me away.
“I want to stay.” I resisted his steely grip.
“We’ve been here long enough,” he returned tersely, and I
halted. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t boss me around.
“One more round. Then we can go for all I care.” He rolled
his eyes, and the music started playing again. This time, even a
song I knew.
“Team up,” Andre called from the other side and I looked
around nervously, but no one invited me. It was almost as if
everyone here already knew each other. Maybe they were also
too intimidated by my bodyguard.
I let out an annoyed sigh. “Give me your hand.”
Nikolai took a step back. “Surely not. I don’t dance.”
“You just ruined my chance with him,” I hissed. “Now
you’re going to dance with me.”
He looked indecisive, so I changed my strategy.
“Don’t give me those puppy eyes,” he warned. I stepped
up my game, pouting like a pro. One look was enough to
crumble his willpower. Grudgingly, Nikolai took my hand and
pulled me close.
The music grew louder, the distance between us no longer
existent. We stared at each other and something in the way he
looked at me changed. There was a fire in his eyes that was
only meant for me. Not anger, no. Something else, more
primal.
Nikolai’s free hand slid to my lower back, far too low and
yet not low enough.
 My lips parted, but I couldn’t say anything. There was
only him, the coloured lights above us, his rough hand in mine
and the sea in the distance.
We started moving in sync and barely two beats later, I
realised it wasn’t the first time he’d done this.
Our bodies became one, his thigh between mine. A thin
layer of sweat coated my chest and my entire skin burned for
his touch. My soul wanted to be conquered, wanted to be
possessed by his.
“You’re doing good,” I whispered sheepishly after he
twirled me around as if he’d never done anything else.
“Is that so?” Nikolai sounded amused, as if he didn’t mind
this situation, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Somehow, it felt like that too, and yet so strange.
A hair had caught in my eyelash and I tried to blink it
away—to no avail.
Nikolai came to my rescue and his thumb stroked my
cheek, staying there for long seconds. I found myself leaning
towards his touch, savouring it.
“Sienna...stop,” he whispered in his raspy voice. But I
can’t, I thought to myself.
Our steps mirrored each other. In one swift movement, I
turned around, my back pressed against his strong chest. He
wrapped one arm around my centre, his hand on my lower
belly, while the other slid up my thigh. Yes, yes, yes…
I swayed my hips to the beat, and it was the sexiest
moment of my life. Pure desire radiated through my veins and
I could feel him enjoying my body against his. He increased
the pressure on my lower belly and pressed me even closer to
him, although that was hardly possible.
I blanked out every person in the place, not caring about
the eyes that might be on us. For me, only his fingers mattered
right now, which I preferred to feel in completely different
places. At least for a moment.
 No, a moment wouldn’t be enough. Even eternity would be
too short.
Without warning, he twirled me around, making me face
him again. Nikolai’s gaze held a hunger I could not describe.
His jaw was tense and his eyes moved from my eyes to my
mouth.
“You look like a goddess.” An icy shiver ran through me.
Hearing those words from his mouth made my knees go weak,
made butterfly wings tickle me from the inside.
Nikolai led me into a cambré and I was amazed at how
effortlessly he did it. A natural.
I came back up, my fingers in his soft midnight hair and
our sweaty foreheads pressed together. Our hot breaths mixed
until we were inhaling the same air.
The music stopped—the song was over.
But we remained in the same position, unspoken words,
unspoken desire between us. Nikolai’s face came closer and
closer, and I felt his upper lip briefly brush mine.
“We can’t,” he whispered against my parted lips, a
pleading and an apology.
I withdrew my trembling fingers and broke away from
him, his scent lingering in my nose.
“Let’s go,” I murmured in resignation. Silently, we made
our way home, the thing that almost happened weighing
heavily in the air. He was right to say we should stop, of
course. But still, I felt a stab through my heart.
I swallowed my bitterness and put on the mask I had
perfected over the years.
“Thank you.” I cleared my throat. “For not backing down.
The evening was…nice.” He just nodded absently, his mind
completely elsewhere. At that moment, I would have liked to
know what was going on inside his analytical, stubborn head,
what variables he was calculating, what arguments he was
considering.
 Well, maybe it was better left a secret. But one thing was
certain: Our souls yearned for connection, yet it felt as though
we were each bound to a different dimension, forever destined
to miss each other’s outstretched hands.
 21

I n the distance, thunder was already beginning to rumble as

we walked home side by side. It was getting colder, but
inside, I was burning from the intensity of that evening, of
his eyes, of our touch.
I was not naïve, though. We were both facing an abyss that
would swallow us, that would break our necks. And we would
carry the invisible scars of our mistake with us until the end of
our days. Was it worth it?
“Watch your step,” Nikolai said, pulling me out of my
thoughts when we arrived at a particularly rocky path. My feet
were killing me and now that the music and the coloured lights
were well behind us, I felt the alcohol full force in my blood
system.
Despite my exhaustion, I was more awake than ever and as
soon as the villa came into view, I felt something like
disappointment rise in my chest.
It would be wiser to retire to the room, stop talking to each
other and pretend that everything was normal, but I wasn’t
ready to go to sleep yet. Because if I went to sleep, this night
would be over, and if this night was over, we would have to
pretend that nothing had happened. But something had
happened between us; I hadn’t imagined it. I just couldn’t
describe what it was. I just knew it was meaningful and so, so
forbidden.
We went through the gate up to the barely lit entrance.
With two swift motions, Nikolai unlocked it, still not speaking.
 “I’d love some tea,” I murmured, trying not to slur my
words. Whether or not I succeeded, I didn’t know.
“I think you need a coffee,” he replied and went straight to
the kitchen. I breathed a sigh of relief and followed him.
He didn’t switch on the bright light, but the LED one that
was integrated under the cupboards in the kitchen.
Much better.
I watched him prepare the coffee and went out to the patio,
where the moon made the pool water glisten.
Even if a storm was brewing, it was still too warm and I
would have loved to rip the dress off my body if it hadn’t been
inappropriate.
Still, I took off my shoes and almost sighed with relief.
The cool water tickled my toes and brought me much-needed
salvation.
I heard the coffee machine rumble and then finally go off.
It got quiet and then I heard Nikolai’s footsteps drawing closer.
He had taken off his jacket, his hair wild. Niko had the
kind of raw beauty that was so rare it took your breath away.
“You should sit down,” he said, setting the cup on the
small table next to the sun lounger.
I wasn’t that drunk. Tipsy, yes, but nothing more. Maybe
he didn’t know the difference.
“Fancy a swim?” He rolled his eyes.
“Of course not.” Disappointed, I looked back at the pool
and put one foot in the water.
“It’s not cold.” I gave him a faint smile.
“Don’t go so close or you’ll fall in,” Nikolai warned, and I
shook my head. I wouldn’t fall in. No, I would jump.
 NIKOLAI

This woman was completely mad. I got up from my seat and

went to the edge of the pool to see if she was okay. Time
passed, the waves becoming smaller and smaller, but she
didn’t surface. On such a dark night, it was hard to see
anything, and the fact that the lights were not on made it
difficult to spot her in the water.
“Sienna?” I hissed, but nothing came back. “It’s not
funny.” Nothing about this evening had been funny, quite the
opposite. Every minute with her covered by that bloody dress
had been pure hell for me. And it hadn’t been enough that she
had danced with that guy, no. Sienna had smiled, and the smile
hadn’t been for me.
And our dance… I almost kissed her, almost threw all my
principles overboard and selfishly took what I needed most—
her lips on mine, her pounding heart against my chest. But that
would only have brought suffering.
Sienna had been underwater far too long, and that couldn’t
bode well. She had drunk quite a bit and if I let her drown, her
father would kill me.
So I took off my shoes and jumped in, diving deep, the
water cool on my skin.
Before my fingers could feel for her body, the little
monster surfaced, and I followed.
“Have you changed your mind?” she asked innocently. I
was about to grab Sienna and drag her out myself, but she had
already swam away on her back.
 I tried to catch her, but my clothes hindered my
movements.
“That wasn’t funny.” I wiped the water from my face and
just managed to grab her by her ankle. Sienna tried to splash
water in my face with her other foot, but in an inconsiderate
moment, I grabbed her by the second foot as well and pulled
her against my body.
She twisted and pushed, but it didn’t help. By the time she
breathlessly gave up, I had already pushed her against the pool
wall, her perfect body powerless against mine. Sienna was
trapped, caged in by my arms and I felt every wicked curve of
hers.
“You got me where you wanted. Tell me, what do you wish
to do now?” I asked. A wry smile spread across my face and
she swallowed visibly, perplexed by my question.
“I-I didn’t mean to—“ A dark laugh came over my lips.
“You didn’t mean to what?” Sienna remained silent, only
looking from my eyes to my mouth. And I didn’t like it.
Because I liked it too much.
I leaned forward, my lips close to her ear.
“I’m starving, Si,” I whispered against my better
judgement.
“I can make you something to eat. Let me change and—“
She wanted to break free.
“But I’m not hungry.” Sienna shuddered, and I loved the
reaction my voice elicited from her. This back and forth was
my favourite game.
“What are you starving for, then?” I sighed and pressed
myself harder against her so she could feel exactly what I was
craving.
Her breath caught in her throat. Just like mine did when I
saw her in that red silk with the dainty pearls around her neck.
My hands ran over her waist and hips, then under her
dress, along her thighs.
 “What are you doing?” she whispered, but instead of
pushing me away, she leaned into my touch, wanting more.
And I wanted to give it to her. So much.
“It would be so easy to touch you, to taste you.” She
closed her eyes and sighed.
“Then why don’t you do it?” A deep, guttural sound came
over my lips.
“I promise you that you would regret it.” Sienna shook her
head, wet strands sticking to her shoulders and curling around
her breasts. Her nipples pressed against the thin material of her
dress and I was about to take one between my teeth, to taste it,
to savour it, just for a second.
“Nikolai?” Her voice trembled and at the same moment, it
started raining. Just a little at first and then it was pouring like
the world would fall apart. Maybe it already did. Maybe it had
been falling apart since I first saw Sienna.
“Yes, Sunshine?” I saw the question, the expectation in her
eyes, and already hated myself for letting her down. She
probably already guessed the answer, because she changed the
subject.
“Let’s go inside or we’ll get struck by lightning.” Maybe
that would be a welcome distraction.
I stepped out of the pool and held out my hand to help her.
From the chest by the door, I took out towels, and we dried
ourselves as best we could in silence.
Every now and then she dared to look in my direction, but
that was the end of the communication.
“Good night,” she said firmly, bidding me farewell without
looking back again, and I wondered if this was the beginning
of something or the end.
 22

T hat was the end. I would never let Nikolai Hale touch me
again. He didn’t deserve it after yesterday’s rejection. I
mean, where was my self-respect?
I had tossed and turned all morning trying to get some
sleep—to no avail. Instead, I had woken up with the first sun
rays and had been brooding about last night for hours.
A firm knock on my door startled me.
“Come in,” I said in a weak voice. If Nikolai thought that
—
My father came trundling in with a broad smile on his face
and a wooden tray in his hands. On it were all sorts of dishes,
omelette, cereal, orange juice and coffee.
“I didn’t know what you would like better, so I brought a
little bit of everything.” The warmth in his eyes made me melt
and forget my anger.
He did all of this for me. It was the nicest gesture since…
since when?
My father put the breakfast tray beside me and sat on the
edge of the bed, his hair still tousled from sleep.
“Do you have any plans for today?” I considered for a
moment as I took a croissant and bit into it. It was delicious
and still warm.
“No, why?” He looked at his watch.
 “Feel like going to the beach? We could rent jet skis if you
like.” His look, filled with hope, tore something inside me and
patched it back together. Just the fact that he had asked
brought me to the verge of tears. But I didn’t let him see it, of
course.
“That sounds perfect,” I replied. “Give me an hour.” He
nodded, his smile still wide.
“I’ll wait downstairs then,” my dad finally said and left the
room.
I allowed myself a single tear. Then, I would eat my much-
needed breakfast and get ready for the beach. The day would
be just ours and I would savour it to the last second.
With adrenaline pumping through my blood, I gulped
down everything he had put in front of me, the rage in my
chest long forgotten. For now.

I PUT on my light blue bikini with the dainty white flowers and
wrapped a sarong around my waist. The light fabric contrasted
with my tanned skin and I loved the glow I had already got.
With a beach tote on my shoulder and the empty tray in my
hand, I walked into the kitchen, my father in the next room
making his last calls.
Lately, he’d been constantly on his phone, and when he
wasn’t, he was on his laptop. Not that I was complaining, but I
was rather worried. Did he really have so much going on?
What had to be so urgent that he had to do it even in his free
time?
I pushed the thought aside as Nikolai came into view, his
eyes still drowsy. He was leaning against the doorframe, his
arms crossed, eyeing me from head to toe.
“You look pretty beat. Did you have a long night?” he
asked, smiling wryly. Was he pretending that nothing had
happened yesterday, or was he keeping our meeting a secret
from my father? Whatever it was, I didn’t feel like listening to
his sarcastic remarks any longer.
Nikolai came closer.
“What’s that in your hair, anyway?” He tugged at my silk
headscarf. It looked cute. That was the only reason I had put it
on.
“Get your hands off me,” I hissed, and he raised them
defensively before walking past me and pouring himself some
coffee.
“It sounded quite different yesterday,” he whispered so that
my father in the living room wouldn’t hear.
“Yesterday, I couldn’t think straight. Today, I’m sober and
I’m telling you to back off or—“ He smirked, unimpressed by
my empty words.
“Or what?” Nikolai stretched and his T-shirt slid up,
exposing his defined abs. Was this some kind of joke for him?
I was just trying to show him how pissed off I was…. “Sweet
Sienna, always so nice and well-behaved. You can’t even
come up with a threat. Practise your lines and I’ll give you a
grade.”
With an angry groan, I stomped out of the kitchen, leaving
him alone with his stupid coffee. Let him choke on it.
Wait… Had I really just thought that? That was so mea—
Forget it, Sienna. Get a backbone.
My father and I made our way to the beach, which was
well-frequented today. Everywhere you could see there were
kids playing in the sand or teenagers trying their hand at
surfboarding.
I remembered the time when I gave it a try and failed
miserably. That day, I had twisted my ankle so badly that I
couldn’t walk properly for three weeks.
We rented two sunbeds and ordered a big bottle of ice-cold
water and some fruit from the employee who kept walking
through the rows. The sun was beating down on us mercilessly
and I inspected my hair, which had become one or two shades
lighter in the time we had been here.
The fresh smell of the sea wafted around our noses, and I
inhaled deeply.
A day without Nikolai—that’s what I needed.
We lay there for a while, me more in the sun and my father
protected by the shade. Both of us were engrossed in our
books, we didn’t talk and yet we spent precious time together.
“Do you want to go for a swim?” my father asked as he
wiped the sweat from his forehead. I nodded and took the red
volleyball I had recently bought in town.
The sand burned my bare feet, and I winced with every
step towards the sea.
When my toes finally touched the cool water, I exhaled in
relief.
“Loser pays for ice cream,” I challenged and patted the
ball.
“Buckle up, kiddo.” Without warning, I parried and,
surprisingly, my father was able to hold his own against me
quite well.
“I was on the volleyball team when I was a teen,” he
pressed out. I didn’t know that. Well, I knew almost nothing
about him, I thought to myself, soaking up the information like
a sponge, my soul begging for every sentence.
“Did you go to tournaments and stuff?” The ball landed
right in front of me, splashing salt water on my face.
“No, the trips were always too expensive. Besides, I didn’t
want to be away from your mom that long.” He uttered those
words as if they weighed nothing, as if it didn’t pain him to
speak them. I pretended I didn’t mind hearing about my
mother and was too much of a coward to ask for more stories.
“I think you’re good at your current job,” I quipped, and he
gave me a genuine smile.
 “For sure. It’s nice to know you’re really good at
something. And if you can make money doing it, that’s the
jackpot.” I agreed with him. However, he didn’t need to know
the exact contents of my filthy books, even though it
correlated with his previous statement.
“What is your calling, your passion, Si?” He missed the
ball and cursed, which sounded rather wrong coming out of his
mouth.
“I haven’t quite figured it out yet. Maybe something in
journalism. But I’m also leaning towards taking creative
writing classes once the new academic year starts.” My dad
nodded encouragingly.
“Your mother liked writing poetry.” My arms dropped and
hung limply down my body. Your mother liked writing
poetry… “I can look for some of her poems as soon as we get
home, if you’d like.” If I’d like? How could you keep this
from me, I wanted to spit back at him. How could you be so
heartless as to withhold a piece of mother’s soul from me even
though you had it at your fingertips? But I remained silent, as I
always did.
He noticed the change in my face, the sudden hardness of
my features.
“My arms are already sore,” I said curtly and stepped out
of the water.
Perplexed, my father followed me, but did not probe.
Perhaps he already suspected how much he had hurt me with
his offer.
He had my mother practically all his life for himself, while
I had not been granted even one day with her. And like a
dragon, he had hoarded her memory. Selfish. Yet, I didn’t want
to cause a scene, because at least, he was trying.
I believed he just lacked emotional intelligence or had kept
himself trapped in his own vacuum of grief for far too long to
know how to interact with strangers, including me. Because no
matter how painful, the reality was that we were only
acquaintances.
 But that could change, I thought to myself. Eventually.
After all, we had all the time in the world.
We sat on the sun loungers, ate our ice cream, and played a
card game in which I, once again, lost.
Just as we were about to start a new round, a guy, hardly
older than me, walked through the rows, a flyer from the jet
ski rental shop in his hands.
“Do you want to go?” I asked, nodding in his direction.
With a mischievous grin, my father caught up with the guy,
pressed some cash into his hand and motioned for me to
follow them.
I had never ridden a jet ski before, but it always looked
incredibly cool on videos. How hard could it be? It wasn’t like
you had to shift gears or something.
Two jet skis were positioned on the shore and after a brief
introduction, the boy pressed a life jacket into my hands.
“Regulation,” he apologised and did the same with my
father.
Before we knew it, we had each climbed onto one, the
leather far too hot between my legs.
Tentatively, I sped up a bit and braked to get a feel for
driving. My dad wasn’t quite as anxious, but waited for me to
get used to the feeling.
With a yelp, I accelerated so fast that the wind whipped my
hair around my face. The adrenaline took over, and I bathed in
the thrill.
My father caught up and gave me a grin as wide as I had
ever seen, before he shamelessly overtook me. Oh, just you
wait, I grumbled to myself, demanding everything from the jet
ski until I was shoulder to shoulder with my laughing father.
“Maybe next time,” he yelled over the loud engine before
taking a sharp left turn and splashing a load of water in my
face.
For what felt like half an hour, we raced, becoming a tiny
dot on the horizon. The boy we had left behind a short while
ago was waving a big yellow flag. That must have been our
sign to return.
This time, we didn’t wait for each other, but retreated at
our own pace.
Even from a distance, I recognised that someone was lying
on my sun lounger, hands behind his head, a serene expression
on his face.
For God’s sake—Nikolai. Couldn’t I have a day off?
I stomped to our spot and leaned over him, blocking out
the sun.
“What are you doing here?” I hissed, and my father
appeared beside me. Nonchalantly, he dried himself while the
water trickled from my hair onto Nikolai’s chest.
Only now did I realise I had never seen him so scantily
clad in daylight. His muscular body was well defined and
subtle hairs were visible on his chest. A fine line of dark hair
stretched almost from his navel down to the hem of his black
swim shorts, pointing right between his legs.
I forced myself to lift my gaze as he sat up with a wry
smile.
“I’m sunbathing.” He shrugged. “We’re at the beach,
aren’t we?” I crossed my arms.
“You hate sunshine.” Nikolai lifted his gaze from my legs
to my sweaty face.
“Maybe I’ve started to love sunshine?” With an eye roll, I
pushed his legs away so I could sit at the foot of the lounger.
With the greatest of effort, I tried to ignore him, even when
his leg brushed against my back every now and then. After the
fifth time, I shot him a venomous look. Oh God, this man
brought out the worst in me.
“Could you put sunscreen on me, Sienna?” he asked in his
most charming tone.
“You’re a big boy; do it yourself,” I replied sweetly and
my father choked on his water. He gave me a weird look but
said nothing.
Wordlessly, he took sunscreen from my bag and smeared it
on his chest and shoulders.
I gave him a look that said: See? You can do it on your
own.
My father excused himself and left me alone with his best
friend, who handed me the bottle and turned his back on me.
“Please?” With an annoyed sigh, I sat astride behind him,
the sunscreen already spread in my hands.
Looking closer, you could see fine lines on his skin. They
looked almost like healed scratches.
Nikolai stiffened when he felt me staring too intently at
him.
I mumbled a quick sorry and proceeded to rub the cream
into his skin.
It was soft, far too soft, and yet there was a certain
hardness underneath. Not of muscle, and he had plenty, but
one that he had ingrained, that was a part of him.
“Is that good?” I asked, trying not to forget any spot.
Nikolai just sighed and leaned against my touch. At that
moment, I withdrew my hands because I saw my father
returning, a bag of chips in his hands.
I sat back down in my initial position, heart pounding as if
I was almost caught doing something forbidden. Maybe I was.
Maybe you weren’t supposed to massage sunscreen on your
dad’s best friend’s back.
“Are you unwell, Si?” my father asked me. “You look a bit
pale.” I shook my head.
“I’m fine, don’t worry,” I assured him. “I’ll go and find the
guy who rents out sun loungers. I think we need an extra one.”
My angry gaze fell on Nikolai.
Before he could say anything, I was already gone.
 It took me a while to find someone who worked here, but
eventually, I stumbled across someone with the beach cafe’s
logo on the shirt. The brunette guy had a nose piercing and
was wearing red shorts, his skin super tanned from the
constant outdoor work.
He was certainly good looking, had that surfer vibe. Not
my type, but definitely an eye-catcher.
I explained my dilemma, and he immediately set to work,
bringing another lounger to our spot. Meanwhile, I walked
beside him, staring unabashedly at his fit physique.
“What are you doing after work…. Sorry, I didn’t ask your
name?” I smiled a little sheepishly.
“Carlo,” he replied as he looked over his shoulder at me.
“And I’m DJing at a private party tonight.” Oh… I had hoped
he would suggest seeing each other later. “You’re welcome to
come if you’re into techno.” No, I wasn’t, but I didn’t want to
come across as mean, so I nodded.
He disappeared into a tent where everything was stored.
After a few moments, he came out again. In one hand he
held a folded sun lounger and in the other the grey cover.
“I’ll be there,” I said, walking behind him like a penguin.
Carlo and I arrived at our spot, and he folded up the
lounger. Nikolai eyed him up and down and I could have
sworn his right eye twitched weirdly. He clutched the water
bottle tighter but didn’t say a word. Poor Carlo was caught in
the middle and was about to be stabbed by Nikolai’s invisible
daggers.
“Here’s my phone. Put your number in and I’ll send you
my address.” I took it with a smile and was about to start
typing.
“Sienna…” Nikolai warned in his deep voice, but I ignored
him. Did he really have the balls to argue in front of my
father? I didn’t think so.
“Don’t pay him any attention,” I whispered to Carlo and
handed back the phone, my number saved. He looked back
and forth between me and Nikolai, and before I knew it, his
lips landed on my cheek. Only very lightly, and yet the blush
crept into my already heated face.
My date gave me a crooked smile and disappeared again.
“Who was that?” my father asked with raised eyebrows.
He fixed his gaze on Nikolai for a moment and something I
couldn’t name flashed in my father’s deep eyes before he
regained his composure. I hadn’t noticed his dark circles until
now.
“My new friend,” I answered with a shrug.
“I know you’re lonely, but…” He struggled for words. Was
this what a father’s concern looked like?
“I’ll be fine,” I assured him and lay down in the sun.
Neither of them could stop me from going to this rave
tonight. Especially not Nikolai. He had made it clear enough
that there was nothing between us. I wasn’t eager to get turned
down again, so it was best if I stayed far away from him.
 NIKOLAI

That wicked little witch. Sienna could get on your nerves 99%
of the time, but I’ve never been as angry as when I saw that
scum kissing her right in my presence. On the cheek, but still.
And he had the audacity to look me in the eye doing that. I
would have liked to follow him across the whole beach and
drown him, slowly and painfully. But even that wouldn’t have
been enough.
No one was allowed to touch her, not even me. I had
promised myself that and I was determined to keep my
promise. Touching her would only cause problems and she
deserved better.
Fortunately, Sienna was in the water and didn’t have to
watch me stare furiously into space.
It was only when Christopher shook me by the shoulder
that I realised I hadn’t been listening to him.
“Are you all right?” he asked and eyed me sceptically. I
muttered some nonsense and saw him beckoning the beach
vendor to come over.
“What do you want with those cheap bracelets?” I asked
sarcastically. “Are you discovering your feminine side?” He
rolled his eyes.
“Si loves stuff like that.” As if he knew. He’d barely spent
two minutes with her since waking up from his fatherhood
coma. Something I could never forgive him for, unlike Sienna.
 The guy came to where we were sitting and presented us
with the different colours. They all looked ugly, straight from a
cheap website, not self-made at all.
“This one,” Chris said, pointing to a blue bracelet. The
vendor was about to take it out, but I interrupted him.
“Sienna likes yellow.” I pointed to the bottom one and
Chris reluctantly paid for it.
Only when the guy had left again did my friend speak up.
“How do you know what my daughter’s favourite colour
is?” I froze, but tried not to let on and shrugged.
“She often wears yellow. I put two and two together.” My
performance hadn’t really been convincing, it seemed.
“Nikolai, tell me the truth,” he demanded and our eyes met
for the first time.
“What do you mean?” I asked dumbly. He snorted.
“Is there something going on between you two?” With all
my might, I tried to put on my usual mask of cold indifference.
“She is your daughter. There is no need to say more.” Still
sceptical, he finally leaned back.
Was my rather minuscule affection for her so obvious?
Yes, she was beautiful and smart and yes, if she had been a
random woman I would have given in long ago, but this
situation was far more complicated than it seemed.
Speaking of the devil… Sienna came back and her skin
shone like thousands of diamonds from the water still clinging
to her curves. Her bikini was way too skimpy, and I had been
having trouble staring at her like a lunatic all day when I
thought she wasn’t looking.
Sweat dripped from my forehead, and I wiped it away in
annoyance. God, how I hated the summer. I didn’t even know
why I had come here in the first place when there was so much
work waiting for me.
Sienna scowled at me, and I already knew my answer.
Seeing her so upset was more fun than it should have been.
Somehow, I had to bring out this other side of her and slowly, I
succeeded.
She raised an eyebrow when she caught me staring at her
again and I averted my eyes, pretending nothing was wrong.
But it was so, so wrong. My favourite kind of wrong. And yet,
wrong was completely off-limits.
 23

N ikolai had not spoken to me for the rest of the day and
when I had asked him questions, he had only given me
short answers. He wanted to play this cold shoulder
game? All right. I knew how to play it too.
I was about to walk out the door when I saw Nikolai
leaning against the doorframe. He looked at me with his
intense eyes and I had trouble averting my gaze. Had he
suddenly become too proud to ask me to stay home? Not that I
would have done it. I needed to get out of this house and far
away from him.
“I’ll be off then.” I quickly tied my sneakers, and the Uber
honked impatiently.
“Have fun,” he returned coldly. I glared at him.
“I will. Don’t wait for me.”
“I won’t.” Nikolai crossed his arms in defiance.
“Fine,” I hissed.
“Fine.” Rolling my eyes, I shut the door a bit too firmly.

T HE PARTY WAS at an abandoned warehouse, and apparently,

someone’s birthday was tonight. Nobody could tell me where
Carlo was or when he would come. I had a bad feeling when I
saw how much alcohol was flowing, how many people were
taking pills and then sitting on camping chairs, completely
passed out.
The music was pounding in my ears and mixed with my
pulse, taking possession of my heart. But not in a good way.
The bass vibrated through my chest and I almost felt sick,
even though I hadn’t been drinking.
A makeshift bar had been set up at the other end and it was
really tricky to weave my way through the crowd. When I
finally arrived, a pale guy was staring at me. As far as I could
see, there was only beer, and I took a cup just to have
something in my hand.
Annoyed, I looked at my phone—no new messages from
Carlo. Damn, had this guy just ditched me?
Without hesitation, I opened our chat and asked him when
he was coming, but my question went unanswered.
A girl to my right came up to me and shouted something in
Spanish. It was so loud and messy, I wouldn’t even have been
able to understand her if she had spoken in English. She pulled
me by the hand and I followed her blindly. We reached a group
of girls, some younger, some older. But all of them quite
drunk.
“I don’t speak Spanish,” I shouted, and it took two tries
before she understood what I meant and switched to English.
At that moment, I regretted not taking Spanish classes at the
university.
“Mirabel,” the blonde introduced herself, and her friends
waved at me.
“Do you know Carlo?” They burst out laughing as if I had
told the funniest joke ever.
“We’re in Spain. We know a lot of Carlos,” her friend
replied, and I sighed.
“The DJ?” They shrugged, and I took a seat next to a
black-haired girl. She had two lip piercings and her eyes were
so sharp she could have cut glass with her stare.
 There wasn’t much more I could do but wait, so I sat back
and tried to block out the music.
An hour and three beers later, the keys on my phone
looked like they were smudged. I tried to wipe over them, but
nothing happened.
Damn Carlo, I’d throw that beer in his face if I saw him
again, I kept thinking. But even after almost two hours, there
was no answer, and I was getting worried. Maybe he had had
an accident, maybe something terrible had happened to him.
You shouldn’t care, Sienna, I warned myself and got
myself another drink. If he didn’t show up within half an hour,
I would drive home with my tail between my legs.
“I’m going to the toilet,” I shouted to the girls who were
hanging on to some handsome guy’s every word.
A few bumpy turns later and after almost tripping two
times, I finally found the makeshift toilets outside and went to
the queue that was barely moving.
My phone vibrated and with my heart pounding, I took it
out of my pocket, but it was just some stupid notification and
not a message from Carlo. If only I could have deciphered
what it said….
I held the phone closer, almost touching my nose. Still,
everything was blurred, so I gave up.
This was the worst party I had ever been to. Maybe
Nikolai had put some kind of curse on me so I wouldn’t have
any fun today. Or maybe he had run Carlo over just so we
wouldn’t see each other. In any case, I wouldn’t put it past
him. Yes, this disaster of a night must have been his doing.
Stupid Nikolai with his stupid black hair and stupid smile. I
hated his stupid face and his stupid body and, most of all, I
hated his stupid nickname for me.
Out of anger, maybe a little out of false courage, I pulled
out my phone and called him.
After the first ring, he picked up, not sounding sleepy at
all.
 “Don’t ever call me Sunshine again,” I shouted, although
he would have understood me without. Some heads turned to
me, but I paid no attention to the others.
I hung up angrily before Nikolai could reply. The girl
before me gave me a questioning look, and I smiled
triumphantly.
“I kicked his ass.” I waggled my phone, and she rolled her
eyes and turned back to her friend.
My phone vibrated—Nikolai. But I did not pick up. The
queue finally moved a little, and the toilet came closer and
closer.
My thoughts were interrupted by the constant vibrating
from my pocket and at some point, I was so annoyed that I dug
it out and picked up.
“Where are you? I’ll come and get you,” Nikolai snarled,
and I shook my head, knowing full well he wouldn’t see.
“You don’t need to pick me up; I’m fine.” I gave him a
thumbs up, hoping he would somehow receive the gesture
telepathically.
“Wait…” he said, and I heard him typing on the laptop.
“You’re at the old warehouse near the mill.” My mouth fell
open. How could he have known that? Well, we are talking
about Nikolai Hale here, I answered the question to myself, if
anyone was going to find out anything, it would be him.
I cleared my throat.
“Still, you don’t have to come,” I replied. Keys were
rattling, and I doubted he had understood my words.
“If you come, I will—“ He interrupted my threat.
“Then you’ll what?” Nikolai sounded almost amused as he
closed the door behind him.
“Then I’ll call the police,” I said nonchalantly, inspecting
my nails. I heard him laugh at the other end and got even
angrier.
“You’re such an ass,” I shouted, and he closed his car door.
 “Are we in primary school? Come up with some better
swear words, Sunshine.” He said my nickname extra loud.
I wanted to throw all sorts of obscenities at him, but knew
I would regret it tomorrow, so I just hung up. When he called
again, I didn’t answer.
 Nikolai
A DRENALINE RUSHED through my veins as I raced through the
night.
And no, I definitely hadn’t waited for her to call. No, I
hadn’t been charging my phone the entire time either, so the
battery couldn’t run out. No, I didn’t stay up for her either.
What kind of dog on a leash had I become these past few
weeks? Pathetic. It had to stop. Just not today, because Sienna
needed me—she just didn’t know it yet.
She had seemed quite drunk on the phone and the fact that
she was in a city she didn’t know, among strangers, so
unprotected and alone, bothered me more than it should have.
She was a grown woman and yet I couldn’t help but worry.
I knew for a fact that the guy from the beach hadn’t shown
up. I had made sure of that. It had only taken two phone calls,
and he was arrested. Officially for drug possession and
unofficially for touching Sienna. Well, he had drugs with him,
anyway. That had been a lucky coincidence.
I hit the gas and my car blurred with the night, the engine
the only sound I could hear.
It wasn’t long before the shabby warehouse came into
view. People were scattered in front of it, yelling or throwing
up. I wrinkled my nose and called Sienna. Luckily, she picked
up, but I could hardly hear anything.
“Come out,” I said, annoyed, and she mumbled something
incoherent. “Or I’ll come in and get you.” I fervently hoped
that this warning had the desired effect, because I certainly had
no wish to squeeze through sweaty, dancing bodies.
Five minutes passed, but she didn’t come out and slowly, I
grew impatient. After five more, I thought fuck it and stepped
out of the car. The evening air cooled my heated face and I
couldn’t wait to take her home.
With long strides, I entered the hall and was greeted by a
deafening bass.
 I scanned the place as quickly as I could, and it wasn’t
long before I saw Sienna dancing with a girl at the other end. I
didn’t like to be a buzz kill, but this night was an exception, so
I rushed over to the girls and Sienna’s look caught mine. Even
though it was impossible to tell, I could have sworn she went
pale.
“You’re coming with me now,” I yelled over the music.
She crossed her arms stubbornly and looked me up and down.
Her new friend eyed us sceptically, but did not intervene.
If I had been some creep, she would probably have won the
award for the worst friend of the year.
Sienna took a step back and staggered.
“If you don’t come willingly, I’ll throw you over my
shoulder, Sunshine.” She rolled her eyes.
“No, you won’t.” With a devilish smirk, I unceremoniously
picked her up and did just that as if she weighed nothing. A
few glances shot in our direction, but no one bothered to
intervene.
Sienna tried to kick, but her legs were powerless against
my steely grip. I held her tightly by the thighs while she hit my
lower back with her free hand. It was kind of cute that she
thought I would mind.
We left the warehouse, and eventually, she stopped putting
up a fight.
“Will you behave if I put you down?” I asked as we
approached the car.
Sienna mumbled a yes and finally I put her down, her face
flushed and her hair a mess.
“I would have gotten home on my own,” she snarled as she
settled into the passenger seat and buckled her seatbelt, her
movements sluggish.
“Maybe next time,” I returned, doing the same. The engine
howled, and I exhaled slowly.
This ride was going to be interesting…
24
 NIKOLAI

S ienna’s shoulders slowly relaxed, but something was

bothering her. She was far too quiet by her standards,
which was no good sign.
“What is it?” I finally asked when I could no longer stand
her silence.
“Are you responsible for Carlo not showing up today?”
My mouth almost dropped open. How could she have guessed
that? It wasn’t exactly obvious who was behind this. Or was
it?
“Yes,” I answered honestly. There were already enough
lies between us. Why another one?
She snorted in outrage.
“I can’t believe you sabotaged my date. I had to sit there
alone for hours because of you.” Something bloody bad was
reflected in her voice. Fuck, was she on the verge of crying
over something so trivial? Please don’t. I couldn’t deal with
people when they cried. I much preferred them to scream,
curse, or whatever. But not crying. Especially not women.
“Calm down, Sienna.” But that sentence had been the last
straw.
“You want me to calm down?” she snarled. “You calm
down.”
I suppressed my laughter for fear she would have come for
my throat.
 “I am calm.” I breathed deeply in and out. “Look, don’t get
all worked up over something stupid like that. I was just trying
to protect you.” Sienna brushed her hair out of her face far too
aggressively, but didn’t answer. Was she really that upset or
was that the alcohol talking?
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” I said between gritted teeth. I
hated apologising.
My statement didn’t have the desired effect because now
she was full-on crying and I didn’t know what to do.
“I forgive you,” she sniffled, and the crying started again.
Fucking kill me…
I reached out and patted her shoulder. Is that how you did
it? I couldn’t understand how some people would feel better
after that.
“Stop crying now or I’ll throw myself out the window,” I
said impatiently, and she suppressed a whimper. Did people
really get so emotional when they had a drink? I only knew the
opposite.
Before I could reminisce, Sienna started laughing
hysterically and my heart almost stopped beating. Was this
woman possessed? Maybe she didn’t need sleep, but an
exorcism.
“Good one,” she said out of breath and I muttered a hmm.
The sooner we got home, the sooner I was rid of her and
her crazy ass.
“Oh, smile, Niko. You look so good when you smile.”
Sienna boxed my biceps, and I turned my gaze on her, all
intrigued. Had she just complimented me?
“Don’t I look good otherwise?” I asked mockingly, and she
waved it off.
“You know, you look good.” When she’s right… I turned
my attention back to the empty street.
“Do you think I look good?” she blurted out after a few
moments, and I couldn’t help but smirk. Did she really have to
ask that? What man in this world wouldn’t find her ravishing?
 “You look quite acceptable,” I teased, and her gaze shot in
my direction. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see
something change in her face. And I didn’t like it.
Sienna unbuckled her seatbelt. What was she up to? But
before I could process the thought, her mouth was already
close to my ear, her warm breath tickling my skin. “Is that
so?” she purred. “I think you’re lying.” Her hand stroked my
chest, and I shuddered.
If I’d been a better man, I would have pushed her off,
chained her to her seat, if necessary. But I was no better man.
“What makes you think I would lie, Sunshine?” Her
throaty laugh pierced my very marrow.
“I see the way you look at me, Nikolai.” Sienna’s mouth
moved to my throat and her soft lips burned into my flesh, into
my brain, like a core memory I could never forget.
“Stop,” I whispered, my voice unconvincing. But my little
monster continued and her lips brushed over the spot under my
jaw. “You’ll regret it tomorrow.” And I was regretting being
rock hard.
“Oh no, Niko. I regret it already. But I can’t stop.” Her
perfume caressed my nose like the sweetest symphony, and I
breathed in deeper.
“Sienna…” I warned as she nonchalantly placed her hand
on my thigh. Way too high and yet not high enough.
“Tell me, Niko, do you want to touch me?” I swallowed,
unable to think straight. I didn’t know this side of her, had
never thought I could discover it. Behind her innocent façade,
a storm was raging, threatening to swallow me up.
Sienna’s hand slid higher and my breathing quickened.
“Yes…” I breathed. “I want to touch you.”
She smiled against my throat. “I know.” Her fingers drew
little circles on my thigh and I clenched my jaw to the point
where it almost hurt. “I want to touch you, too.”
Before she could do something idiotic from which there
would certainly be no return, I pushed her hand away, and she
looked at me in disbelief.
“You’re not yourself.” Angry sparks shot from her eyes,
but I didn’t care. Tomorrow, she would thank me for stopping
her.
It was better that way, even if my dick didn’t quite
understand it yet. It was so hard it almost hurt, straining
against my pants, and I was about to apologise to Sienna and
get the salvation my body so desperately needed.
Fortunately, the villa came into view and my relief mixed
with the bitter thought of what we missed out on.
I could have just pulled over, could have devoured every
inch of her. And she would have let me. But Sienna deserved
more. And she certainly deserved it with someone else.
Someone who didn’t flat out lie to her every waking minute.
The garage door opened, and I exhaled in relief. With
wobbly legs, Sienna stepped out of the car and slammed the
door shut, giving me a mental middle finger. Tomorrow would
be a fun day…
 25

M y father and I stood in front of the big sink. He rinsed,

and I dried. There was no point in putting the few
plates in the dishwasher.
“Do you have any plans for the rest of the time here?” he
asked, looking at me tenderly, his eyes warm but his face a
little pale.
“I would have liked to go climbing, but after breaking my
arm once, I’m scarred for life,” I quipped, and his features
instantly hardened. He didn’t know… My father didn’t know I
had broken my arm.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and I shook my head.
“It was a very simple break; not worth mentioning,” I
placated, but he didn’t let up.
“No… I’m sorry for all these years I haven’t been the
father you deserve.” I clung to the glass I was drying and
stared stubbornly ahead. It was not the right time to have this
conversation. Frankly, there was no right time at all. I didn’t
want to hear his excuses; they wouldn’t do any good. My
father couldn’t turn back time, so why open old wounds?
“Stop it.” But he didn’t. Instead, he wanted to spew out all
the ballast that had built up over the years. My feelings didn’t
matter.
“I have let you down. I sent you away, and I never
apologised for it.” Pure grief was reflected in his words.
 “We should put these things behind us,” I finally said
between gritted teeth. “You have all the time in the world to do
better.” My father remained silent.
I knew he had to speak those words that were on his mind,
but I couldn’t bear them. Not yet. Maybe never. The past was
painful, so why challenge it? Such a conversation would only
bring anger and tears and, in the end, we would both be losers.
My father would ask, Sienna, do you forgive me? And I
would answer, of course, Dad. And it would be a lie. Because
the sad, sad truth was that I could never forgive him. But even
though I could never forgive him, I craved his affection
because that’s how I was. He could stab me in the back nine
times and, at the tenth time, I would still reach out my helping
hand. Because he was my father and I could never hate him
even if I wanted to, and I wanted to so often. But even after all
the betrayal, I loved him. Who did I have left but him? Maybe
this was toxic, no, this definitely was toxic, to be so dependent
on another person’s approval. But when you had no one else,
even the wolf looked like a sheep. And you would destroy
each other. Anything to fill the void.
“Sienna?” I looked up, tears already dried on my cheeks.
My father had asked me something, but I had been so lost in
my thoughts that I hadn’t heard him.
“Would you feel better if you were back with your
friends?” he asked again, and the dishes almost fell out of my
hand. I couldn’t believe it. We had finally become closer,
almost like a family, and now he wanted to send me away
again under the pretext that I would be better off somewhere
else?
“How can you?” I snarled. He really did want me gone and
wrapped the proposition in beautiful tissue paper. “Do you
hate me so much that you can’t stand my presence for a few
weeks? Are you such a weak man?” He looked at me, aghast.
“Sienna, I—“ But I interrupted him.
“You bring me here only to break my heart again? After all
you have done to me?” My father clawed at the edge of the
kitchen counter. “You talk about family and bonding, but you
show me the door the minute things get rough?”
I couldn’t stop the words and it felt horrible and good at
the same time. This wasn’t me, this wasn’t me, this wasn’t me,
I kept saying. My mouth had taken on a life of its own and yet
it wasn’t even saying the tip of the iceberg.
“I didn’t mean it…” his voice sounded weak, fragile, and I
almost shut my mouth to keep from twisting the knife in his
chest. But years of pent-up anger prevented me from shutting
up.
“Swear on my mother’s grave that you wouldn’t rather see
me in England right now,” I urged. We looked at each other.
And he remained silent.
I snorted, took a step back, and eyed him. “Sometimes I
wish you had died in Mother’s place. Because she would never
have been such a coward as you.” With these words, I walked
past him, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nikolai
staring at us in bewilderment. He pressed his lips into a thin
line and I ran to my room.

T HE SUN HAD ALMOST SET , and only a golden glow illuminated

my room. I hadn’t gone downstairs since the argument with
my father. Instead, I had barricaded myself in here and pitied
myself for the rest of the evening. The television couldn’t
distract me either, and the girls were probably on their way to
France.
Slowly, I regretted coming here at all. Deep down, I had
always known that this holiday would only bring heartache,
but I had viewed everything through rose-coloured glasses and
denied that my relationship with my father was so broken that
no holiday in the world could fix it.
Lost in thought, I scrolled through my phone, seeing the
pictures of the preparations for the big festival and the bands
already posting about it on their social media accounts.
 There was a knock on my door, and I flinched. Please, not
my father, I prayed.
Nikolai.
He stepped into the room with a bowl and set it on the
dresser, the smell of chilli immediately in the air.
“Thank you,” I whispered. I had expected him to leave
immediately, but he sat down at the foot of the bed, his hair
dishevelled.
“Do you want to talk?” he asked, and I straightened up,
perplexed. Had he just asked me to pour my heart out to him?
“Just please without crying,” a lazy smirk played around his
lips. “I hate it when you cry.” I snorted in amusement.
“I’m fine. No worries, I’ll be the same tomorrow, but I
don’t feel like smiling today.” He nodded, his shoulders still
tense.
“You’re right, Sienna,” he finally said. “Your father is a
weak man.” I shook my head, not wanting to hear any of this,
just trying to forget my breakdown. I had gone too far and yet
not far enough. Thousands of thoughts were haunting my mind
and I couldn’t even put a fraction of them into words.
“He may be a genius on the laptop, but he’s a sucker when
it comes to human relations. He can’t talk to people, let alone
those close to him.” My gaze caught his.
“He can talk to you.” I couldn’t hold back the bitterness in
my words. No, I wasn’t jealous of their relationship, and yet it
hurt to see it.
“Who says we talk much?” I tilted my head.
“You’re best friends.” Sadness flitted across his features,
but before I could grasp over what, it was gone.
“Do you have to talk a lot to be best friends? Me and your
father share the same silence. It’s always been like that. It
brought us closer than some brothers.” I tried to wrap my head
around it, but we were so different that I found it hard to
understand him. At least completely.
 “It just hurts so much,” I whispered to myself, feeling
more vulnerable than ever. Yet somehow, in Nikolai’s
presence, I didn’t mind. Quite the opposite. His eyes were free
of judgement and they had lost their harshness.
“Others would have shattered in your shoes. Never forget
that.” He took a deep breath. “You are one of the strongest
women I know.” Despite my sadness, Nikolai had managed to
bring a smile to my face.
“Didn’t you say that being kind makes you weak?” I
thought of his judgmental words a few weeks ago on that rainy
night.
“I have learned that it is your very kindness and
compassion that proves how strong you are.”
I pressed my lips into a thin line, and tears threatened to
overwhelm me. But he didn’t like it when I cried, so I stifled
them as best I could.
I slid to his side, and our fingers touched on the white
sheets. Gone was my embarrassment of this morning, when I
would have loved to bang my head against the wall. I had
thrown myself at him like a wild beast, but to my surprise, he
had behaved like a gentleman. I was grateful for that.
Today was different. There was no desire between us, no
drunken words, but the sobriety of life and the bond of two
souls that were perhaps not as different as I had assumed.
Nikolai’s little finger caressed mine and our eyes met. So
many forbidden words whirred around us, but neither found
the courage to speak them.
“Thank you,” I finally said, and he looked at me
questioningly, his brow furrowed.
“For what?” Nikolai asked huskily, and I tried to smile.
“For being you.” He rolled his eyes, a look of amusement
on his face.
“Few people would thank me for that; on the contrary.”
His touch sent little sparks through my body and it was almost
as if a new bond was forming, stronger and brighter than ever
before.
A few moments of silence arose in which both of us were
absorbed in their own thoughts, but eventually, I interrupted
the silence.
“Niko?” His eyes moved from our intertwined fingers to
my mouth.
“Yes, Sunshine?” I took a deep breath.
“What are we doing here?” I finally asked, and Nikolai
shook his head.
“I don’t know.” His voice sounded almost pleading.
It felt as if time stood still, as if nothing mattered anymore.
There was only Nikolai’s chest steadily rising and falling, his
warm skin and the pulsing between us. I was sure that if I had
reached out, I would have felt the thick air kissing my fingers.
And then I did something stupid. I leaned forward and
kissed him on the cheek, the touch as light as a feather. The
corner of my mouth brushed his, and I heard him inhale
sharply.
“Si…” But what he was about to say was interrupted by
the ping of my phone, the tender moment between us
shattering into thousands of pieces.
Nikolai pulled his hand away and put some space between
us, as if I were about to go for his throat.
Annoyed, I picked up my phone because it wouldn’t stop
buzzing. When I saw who had sent all the messages, I rolled
my eyes. The girls had attached a ton of pictures in the group
chat of them packing their suitcases. Ramona had edited my
face into the picture next to her overstuffed bag and it looked
like there was an oversized blonde ball on her bed, straight out
of a horror movie.
If the time hadn’t been so damn bad, I would have almost
laughed.
“Did something happen?” Nikolai asked, nodding at the
phone in my hand. I sighed and shook my head.
 “Just the girls,” I said, showing him the funniest photo. To
my amazement, he even smiled and only now, our heads
clearer again, did I notice how dark it had become in the room,
more intimate, somehow. I cleared my throat. “We were
supposed to go to France together. There’s a big festival and
my favourite band is playing this weekend.” I shrugged.
“Ramona and Blair will definitely send me videos, though,” I
finally said, a little bummed. Nikolai considered for a moment.
“So you still want to go to that festival?”
“Well, sure. But it’s not a good time right now and last-
minute flights cost a fortune.” I put the phone down. “Maybe
next year.” He nodded and finally stood up, his mind once
again somewhere else. Before I could thank him again for
cheering me up, he was gone.
Irritated, I looked at the place where our fingers had once
touched and felt more confused than ever.
 26

T wo days had already passed, in which I had hardly

spoken to my father. He had sought to talk to me from
time to time, but I tried to avoid him as much as
possible. I was not yet ready to talk and certainly not to
apologise. Yes, my words had been too harsh, but I had
reached my limit. Lost in thought, I pulled out my phone.
Ramona’s social media was full of preparation and travel
pictures. Blair, on the other hand, always kept a low profile.
We often joked that she was secretly afraid a stalker would
find out where she was. Of course, that thought was more than
far-fetched.
I sat down at the edge of the pool and let my legs dangle in
the water. Maybe I was imagining it, but it felt as if it had
become hotter in the last few days, even though the
temperature had remained the same. Strange.
I leaned back, arms behind my head and closed my eyes,
letting the warm breeze dance over my skin and swirl up my
hair.
But my peace didn’t last long, because I heard my father
calling me from the kitchen—the early dinner was ready.
With a sigh, I rose, straightened my casual, white dress and
made my way to the living room to eat in awkward silence
once again.
“I hope you’re hungry,” my father murmured as he placed
the roast potatoes on the table.
 “Starving,” I lied, and he nodded in satisfaction.
We sat down at the table, and nobody talked. The only
thing you could hear was the cutlery on the china.
“Have you checked the report?” Nikolai asked, addressing
my father, and I silently thanked him for the distraction.
“No, not yet. Their security system is top-notch. It will
take a while before I can give you something useful,” he
replied, stricken. Maybe Nikolai was just expecting too much
from him, but if his friend’s praise was any indication, my
father could hack into anything.
“How about we go shopping tomorrow?” my father asked
me and I was briefly irritated by the fact that he acted as if
nothing had happened. Was he just going to go back to normal
like that?
“I can’t,” I replied. “My new project just came back from
my editor yesterday and I have my hands full.” We both knew
it was a lie, and he took the hint.
My father nodded as Nikolai looked up at me from his
plate.
“So what’s your new book about?” he asked with a
mischievous smile on his lips. I cleared my throat.
“About a love story.” I kept it as vague as possible. Yes,
my father knew I liked to write, but he wasn’t aware of the
taboo topics in my books. And I wanted to keep it that way.
“I can help you if you have any questions.” I choked on
my lemonade and almost laughed. Surely not.
“I hardly think you’re such a romantic.” Nikolai shrugged
as my father shifted tensely in his seat.
“That’s exactly what would make the book so…
intriguing,” he finally said, his tone deeper than usual. Was he
trying to imply something? If so, I didn’t get it.
“Thanks, but I can manage myself,” I finally said, a wry
smile spreading across his lips.
 “I bet.” Oh God… I gave Nikolai a warning look, and he
sat back in satisfaction.
Was this evening never going to end? As if my father had
read my thoughts, he stood up and took some trays and empty
glasses with him to the kitchen.
A few minutes later, I did the same, while Nikolai cleared
the rest of the dirty dishes from the table.
It was obvious that my father was looking for the
conversation that was inevitable, but I wasn’t ready to pretend
that everything was okay, so I retired to my room while they
were still cleaning up. There was no way I was going to sit on
the couch with them and watch soccer.
Completely exhausted from the strong sun and my
brooding, I took a shower, the strawberry-scented oil like a
kiss on my skin.
Hot water ran down my body, relaxing my muscles, and
yet I couldn’t let go of the anger that had built inside my chest.
It was in those moments that my darkest thoughts took over.
And there was nothing I could do about it.
I contemplated the weight of my father’s love—or lack
thereof. Even though I didn’t want to admit it, it was a wistful
ache that lodged itself deep within, like an unanswered
question haunting the corners of my soul. Did he truly hold
affection for me? Or was his affection a fragile facade, a
semblance of love that could never pierce the depths of his
heart?
The uncertainty, or rather the certainty that he despised me,
gnawed at my core, tearing at the delicate tapestry of self-
worth. I pondered the void, the echoing absence of love from
the man who was supposed to be my father. Was I that
unworthy of his love? Did I unknowingly bear the weight of
his disappointment? Was I simply unlovable, destined to drift
through life’s corridors, forever seeking an elusive embrace?
Maybe.
The deepest wounds, I realised, are not those etched upon
the flesh, but rather the invisible scars left by the absence of a
love that should have been unwavering. These wounds,
intangible yet indelible, bear witness to the depths of our
vulnerability and the power of love’s absence to shape our
very essence.
My throat tightened and my eyes stung with tears as the
bleak feeling seeped into every corner of my being. There
seemed to be no escape, and yet all around me, people were
living life to its fullest while I remained still; suspended in
time within the lonely fog of emotions that clouded my
thoughts and weighed down upon every step taken forward
towards a better day.
In weeks when I had reached rock bottom, I was afraid that
these better days were just an illusion, a construct, nothing
more. And then there were good weeks; weeks full of laughter
and love and everything pure in this world. But mostly I lived
in the weeks in between, not good and not bad—simply…
weeks. The smile was the same, but the invisible hand born
from my deepest fears was always around my throat. It didn’t
tighten its grip, just lingering there, reminding me of what was
soon to come again. And somehow, that was even worse.

T HE EBONY NIGHT stretched its inky fingers across the

heavens, engulfing the world in a shroud of darkness.
Moonlight, pale and ethereal, whispered secrets to the
shadowy depths below. It was within this veil of mysteries that
my heart would be tested, my very soul teetering on the
precipice of a terrifying nightmare.
I found myself standing upon the shoreline of a forlorn
beach, where the relentless waves crashed against the sand
with a rhythmic, ominous cadence. The salty air mingled with
an undercurrent of trepidation, sending a chill coursing
through my veins. An uncanny stillness settled upon the scene,
as if the very elements held their breath in anticipation of the
impending doom.
 From the inky depths emerged a figure, cloaked in the
formless blackness of my deepest fears wearing my mother’s
face. Her presence, though veiled in obscurity, emanated an
unyielding malevolence. As my gaze locked with her piercing,
merciless eyes, an intangible force compelled me to move, to
walk forward into the abyss.
With hesitant steps, I ventured into the frigid waters, the
lapping waves tugging at my ankles, as if urging me to
reconsider my dire course. The tide rose higher, its cold
embrace inching up my trembling legs, as if a thousand icy
tendrils sought to claim me for their watery realm.
Fear coiled within my chest, tightening its grip with every
passing moment. Panic coursed through my veins as I fought
against the primordial instinct to flee. But the invisible hand of
fate guided me further, deeper, into the murky depths that
awaited.
As the waves grew more tumultuous, the air thick with
impending calamity, I sensed the presence of the horror with
my mother’s face drawing nearer. The weight of her intent
pressed upon my shoulders, threatening to crush my spirit.
And then, like a macabre dance of fate, she emerged from the
depths, a spectre of my worst nightmares.
A phantom’s grip, icy and unyielding, wrapped around my
throat, squeezing the breath from my lungs. Desperation clung
to me like a second skin, my eyes wide with terror as the water
enveloped me, swallowing my cries for mercy. I gasped and
spluttered, my body thrashing in a futile struggle against the
relentless grip of the abyss.
My mouth, a gateway to suffocating horror, filled with the
bitter taste of salted death and my lungs burned with a fiery
ache as muddy, sandy water slithered within.
Each passing second seemed an eternity as the dark waters
embraced me, inviting me into their depths. My vision blurred,
the world fading into an eerie haze, and the muffled
cacophony of the underwater realm invaded my ears. The taste
of salt stung my tongue, mingling with the bitter realisation
that this might be my final breath.
 In the final throes of consciousness, my mind fragmented,
memories and regrets merging with the black waters. The
swirling eddies seemed to mock me, whispering cruel truths of
my mortal insignificance. And as the last flicker of light faded,
surrendering to the all-consuming darkness, I succumbed to
the chilling embrace of oblivion.
And in the final throes of consciousness, as the watery
abyss threatened to consume my very soul, a jolt of urgency
surged through my being. A voice pierced the veil of my
nightmare, a familiar cadence that resonated with unwavering
determination. “Wake up,” it cried, a lifeline amidst the
drowning chaos.
Startled, I jolted upright, my body convulsing as I coughed
and gasped for precious air. A cold sweat drenched my
trembling body, my heart pounding against the confines of my
chest. Reality flickered back into focus as the remnants of the
nightmare clung to the edges of my consciousness.
“Nikolai,” I rasped, my voice hoarse and ragged, gratitude
mingling with lingering fear. He stood by my side, concern
etched upon his face, his eyes reflecting the depth of his worry.
Nikolai’s strong hands gently grasped my trembling shoulders,
offering reassurance in their touch.
“You’re safe, Sunshine,” he whispered, his voice a
soothing balm to my shattered nerves.
Tears welled in my eyes, a mix of relief and lingering
distress. The nightmare’s grip gradually loosened, its tendrils
retreating to the recesses of my mind.
Slowly, I found it easier to breathe, even though the
pressure on my chest was crushing.
“Why are you here?” I asked as I looked up at Nikolai, his
face veiled in shadows. It was almost pitch black; not even the
moonlight dared enter my room for fear I would drag it down
with me.
“I heard you scream,” he whispered. “Do you want to talk
about it?” Sitting on the edge of the bed, he moved closer until
I could feel his body heat as he probably studied me.
 I breathed in deeply and exhaled, trying to calm my heart.
“A nightmare.” My vocal cords felt like sandpaper, my
mouth parched.
“About what?” Nikolai eventually asked.
Usually, I would have shrunk back from such a question,
ignored it, even. But something about Nikolai gave me the
security I needed, the support I so desperately craved. His
comfort came in all sorts of forms, I realised; a shared laugh,
playing with my hair, brushing his fingers against mine… For
me, these were all reassurances that, no matter what happened,
the night’s revelations wouldn’t leave our minds untouched.
And the starless night elicited my words, my fears, even
my secrets.
“About my mother drowning me,” I breathed. “It’s always
the same dream.”
In the shadows, our secrets felt smaller, easier to share
without fear of judgment or retribution. There’s something
special about huddling together and exchanging whispered
words at night—we could connect on a deeper level; we could
unburden even our darkest thoughts without repercussions
because they’ll soon drift away into nothingness with dawn’s
arrival.
I felt Nikolai’s rough finger run along my collarbone and
shuddered. He always seemed so serious, so analytical, so
strong, as if he knew no fear, as if nothing mattered to him. An
illusion, of course. He just hid his fears better than I did.
“A secret for a secret, Sunshine?” My heart skipped a beat
because his voice was much closer than I had expected.
“O-okay,” I muttered, trying to sit up. In that intimate
moment, I would have handed him my every thought on a
silver platter if he had wished. I would have talked until the
first sun rays lit up the room and dispelled the darkness’s
magic.
“What are you afraid of?” The seriousness in his voice
showed genuine interest, and his words held for once no
mockery. I swallowed to banish the lump in my throat.
 “Loneliness, perhaps, and emptiness, yes, emptiness.” I
took a deep breath. “And I’m afraid of not being enough or
being too much. It’s complicated. There’s this emptiness inside
me, you know?” An inherited emptiness, I added silently.
“And sometimes I’m afraid of leaving nothing behind in this
world. That’s why I started writing. I want to have my small,
insignificant impact.” A bitter smile crossed my lips, though I
was almost sure he didn’t see it.
“Your impact on me is anything but small and
insignificant.” I heard what he had said, but my brain could
barely process his words. Nikolai had spoken them with such
pain that I almost pressed him to my chest, stroking his hair to
dispel his sinister thoughts. “And your good heart will imprint
itself on the souls of every person who has the honour of
meeting you.” Tears gathered in my eyes and I tried to blink
them away, but it didn’t work. Instead, they ran down my
cheeks and dampened my hair.
I reached out and ran my fingertips over his cheekbones.
Nikolai leaned towards my touch and for a moment,
everything was silent and yet we said so much.
“You owe me a secret,” I spoke in a strained voice. “What
are you afraid of?”
“You.” He sighed. “And that I will end up like my father.”
Why should he be afraid of me? I thought about it and
maybe I already knew the answer. Maybe I had known the
answer for a while.
And why was Nikolai afraid of ending up like his father? I
knew I shouldn’t pry, but I wanted to know, wanted to
understand him, wanted him to tell me things that were meant
for my ears only.
“Your father?” I eventually asked.
“It’s complicated…” Nikolai said. “He was a bad husband
and an even worse father. He was violent, an alcoholic, and
had drunk away all our money, you know? All our savings.”
The memory of Nikolai’s back crossed my mind, but I didn’t
bring it up. “He left us when I was about six years old. Then it
was just me and my mother. We were pretty poor. New clothes
were a luxury for us and we went to bed hungry more often
than full.” His disparaging laugh echoed through the room,
and I felt my heart shatter. “It broke my mother, made her a
different person, and I can hardly remember a time when she
was loving.” Nikolai ran his fingers through his hair; at least
that’s what it sounded like.
“But why are you running an alcohol empire if that’s what
tore your family apart?” He considered for a while and slowly,
I regretted my question.
“So that I can contribute at least a drop to my father’s
death.” My jaw dropped, and I started to think that I had
misheard. Nikolai wasn’t finished, though. “My company
operates worldwide, my alcohol is in almost every pub, bar,
strip club and brothel. The probability that he had ever drunk
the alcohol I distribute is almost 100 percent.” I was
speechless. So his business was actually just the means to an
end for his personal vendetta?
No wonder he was so cold, I thought to myself, that had
been the only way he could survive.
I hadn’t even noticed that I had started crying again. How
could anyone hurt a little boy like that? I wanted to reach out
and comfort him, but his thumb was already on my cheek,
wiping away my tears.
“Don’t cry for me, Sunshine,” Nikolai whispered. “I don’t
deserve your tears.” I shook my head.
A few moments passed, and they felt like an eternity;
every second I couldn’t hold him was sheer torture.
“Lie with me,” I said, my voice as broken as my heart.
“I can’t,” he replied, but made no effort to get up either.
“Why?” I moved closer, wanting to soak up his unique
scent like lifeblood.
“Because if I’d lie with you, I would kiss you.” My heart
stopped and then beat so fast I thought it would leap out of my
chest.
 “Then kiss me…” He became so quiet that I imagined I
could hear my blood flowing, my heart pumping in sync with
his words.
Nikolai closed the distance between us, his lips inches
from mine.
“Tell me to stop or I can never stop again.”
 27

E nveloped in shadows under the blanket of night,

Nikolai’s lips met mine. Our kiss was sweet and fiery all
at once, like two burning stars being pulled into orbit by
an unseen gravity that neither of us could control. He savoured
me like a starving man, wrapping his hand around my waist as
if my body was the only anchor keeping him sane.
My tongue ran over his lower lip and a growl escaped his
throat deep enough to make me tremble. Nikolai tasted of
sweet sin, of sadness and taboo, and I bathed in the feel of his
body against mine.
I tangled my fingers in his hair and he pressed me closer,
his heart pounding against my chest.
Our tongues melted together, dancing a dance that only
they understood. But it wasn’t enough, probably never would
be. “More,” I whispered as his lips moved to my neck and he
licked over my heated skin. Oh God…
“What do you want, Sunshine?” Nikolai asked, his breath
ragged. I felt his hard length against my thigh and grinded
against him, wanting to feel all of him. “Use your words.” His
breath tickled my collarbone before he left burning hot kisses
on my chest.
“Touch me,” I begged, and I felt a blush creep up my
cheeks. His dark, seductive laugh echoed through the room.
Nikolai shifted his weight and his hand went under my satin
top while his lips sought mine again. I wanted to bathe in his
scent, wanted to be swallowed whole by his essence. Only
then would my body find salvation.
Nikolai’s fingers found my aching nipples, hard, just for
him. A throaty moan came from my lips as he began to play
with them. More, more, more, I thought as my hand wandered
down his naked torso.
Nikolai bit my lip while his hand ran over my breasts as if
to burn the feeling of them into his brain, as if it was the last
time he could touch me. My naked skin, a memory he could
play over and over again in the darkness.
I brushed my knuckles over his rock hard length covered
by cosy sweatpants and I wondered how anything this size
would ever fit.
A soft fuck came from his lips and I smiled, realising how
much he wanted my touch, what it did to him. I wanted to
slide my trembling hand under the soft material, but he
stopped me at the last second. What? No, why? Dozens of
questions buzzed through my head, but before I could open my
mouth, Nikolai beat me to it.
“We’ve broken enough rules already.” He spoke those
words as if everything inside him was recoiling from saying
them.
No, no, no, I wanted to scream. We had already crossed a
million lines; the ultimate one wouldn’t make any difference.
But with one last, tender kiss on my parted lips, he pulled
away, his breath still uneven.
I would have loved to reach out to him, to ask him to sleep
in bed with me so I could hold him. But I remained silent.
Nikolai straightened up, and the mattress flattened again,
leaving behind only his cologne on the sheets.
“Good night, Niko,” I said, meaning stay with me.
“Sleep well, Sunshine,” he replied, meaning no.
 NIKOLAI

Sienna had barely touched me and I had never been so hard in

my life; just tasting her lips for the first time had almost
pushed me over the edge. I would never be able to get the
melody of her moans out of my head and the feeling of her
naked skin, of having her underneath me, had imprinted itself
on my heart like red-hot iron.
My monster was the sweetest of seductions, and for her, I
would have gladly thrown myself into damnation.
But we couldn’t, shouldn’t. Sleeping with her would have
crossed all boundaries and at the end of the day, she would
have regretted it. And I wanted to spare her the bitter
aftertaste, even if it had cost me all my willpower to leave her
behind. Damn it, I was her father’s best friend, and she was the
epitome of off-limits. But why did it feel so good to break the
rules?
I stood under the shower, my dick still aching for her
touch.
My hand moved down, my body needing salvation. Even if
I would have preferred to get it from my Sunshine down the
hall.
With one hand on the shower wall and one stroking myself
steadily, I thought of her hard nipples between my fingers.
I remembered the way Sienna’s lips felt against mine,
gentle yet hungry; how she coaxed out a pleasure inside me I
never knew existed. The idea of her so close set my skin on
fire and quickened my breath—it was as if we were still
together right here, right now in this small, little shower.
I mumbled her name over and over again, like my personal
prayer. And in my mind, she would answer and would beg me
to give in. And I would, oh, so gladly.
The heat increased tenfold as I neared the edge, and my
breath came in harsh gasps. My grip on my dick tightened, my
movements faster, more desperate. I just needed a taste of her;
one hour, one week, one lifetime. My legs tensed as a sudden
wave of pleasure crashed over me. I clung to the shower wall
for dear life as if it was all that kept me from floating away in
pure ecstasy. I couldn’t remember the last time I had come so
hard by myself.
My release ran down my trembling fingers and my last
whisper was her name.
 28

I was sitting on the couch with a bowl of cereal on my lap.

The TV was playing some rerun of a series and it was
quite hard for me to follow the plot, but I was tired of
locking myself in my room. Instead, I had decided to eat my
breakfast downstairs. My father was still asleep and Nikolai
had left early, so we hadn’t had time to run into each other. I
didn’t know how to react after last night, what to say. Were
words even necessary? I didn’t know. The only thing I knew
was how much my body longed to repeat it. But we couldn’t.
Not again.
Our silent dance on the precipice could break our necks.
Was it worth the risk?
The front door opened, and I flinched. Nikolai.
I tried to act as casual as possible, tried to pretend that
yesterday had never happened. But it had, and it was written
all over my face—I had almost slept with my dad’s best friend.
“Good morning,” Nikolai called from the kitchen in his
typical rough manner. The elegant touch in his voice was
gone, or maybe he showed it only at night when the lights
were out.
“Morning,” I replied, not quite as loudly. The coffee
machine was turned on and the grinding of beans echoed from
the kitchen into the living room.
After a few moments, I heard it rustle and finally,
everything went silent. He was gone.
 Nikolai wanted to play this childish game of ignoring each
other? All right. I could play that too. Let’s see who would
give in first.

I HAD SPENT the entire morning in front of the TV and my

father still hadn’t shown up. Why was he sleeping for so long?
He hadn’t gone to bed that late last night, otherwise he would
most likely have heard me screaming. Lucky he hadn’t,
though. After all, he would have caught me with Nikolai, and
it wouldn’t have been much fun to explain to him what exactly
we had been doing in my bed.
I debated going to wake him up, but decided against it. We
weren’t on good terms yet and maybe he needed a break from
being around people.
I decided to pass the time outside, feeling the sun and the
sea salt on my skin. Who knew how much time I had left in
Spain and I didn’t want to spend it brooding over Nikolai and
our thing.
My phone vibrated while I put on some shorts and a light
top. The girls had sent pictures of how they arrived in France
and secretly, I envied them. Even if it wasn’t their intention, I
felt like an outsider at that moment and I would have loved to
sleep in a stuffy tent with them and live on beer and protein
bars.
 Sienna:

I wish I could be with you.

It took a few minutes before they answered. It baffled me they

even had time to look at their phones with the commotion that
must have been going on right now.
 Blair:

We wished that too. We miss you and will send

you some videos.

A moment later, the phone vibrated again.

Ramona:

It’ll almost be like you’re with us.

Debatable, but I was grateful for their sweet words. Tonight,

my favourite band would be performing on stage, the event I
had been looking forward to all year.
 Ramona:

Figuratively, of course.

My friend added, and I raised an eyebrow.

Blair:

Ignore Ramona. She was already drinking on the

plane.

I snorted, picturing it. I could see Blair having to set up the

tents all by herself because Ramona was already tipsy. But I
couldn’t blame Ramona either; she was terrified of flying and
her way to relax was to spend a lot of money on that bit of
alcohol on board.
I made my way out, the house seeming somehow
abandoned without the constant typing of keyboards.
The midday sun was burning on my skin, and there was a
sweet smell in the air. I couldn’t describe it; perhaps fresh
pastries?
I put my headphones in and went into town, wanting to
finish my audiobook in peace and let the beauty of the
surroundings wash over me. With slow steps I walked past
playing kids, their laughter contagious, while dogs rolled in
the grass in front of me.
Maybe I just imagined it, but in Spain, everyone seemed
more carefree, much more serene. An elderly woman greeted
me in Spanish and I returned it with a broad smile. At the next
corner was an ice cream stand, and I paid for two scoops–
coconut and cookies and cream. The hunched man handed me
the ice cream, and I bid farewell, strolling through the park,
the cooling shade feeling delicious on my skin.
My audio book paused, and I looked at my phone—a new
message from Nikolai.
I debated whether I should read it at all or whether I should
keep him in suspense. Somehow, I was leaning towards the
second option, but my curiosity got the better of me.
With a sigh, I opened the message.
 Nikolai Hale:

Where are you?

I raised my eyebrows. Hello to you, too.

Sienna Mayfield:

Outside. Why?

Barely a blink later, the next message popped up.

 Nikolai Hale:

How long are you staying?

Was he expecting a constant report on when I leave, where I

am and when I come back?
Sienna Mayfield:

Maybe all night.

I loved to tease him. And I also loved how annoyed he always

got.
 Nikolai Hale:

Do you want me to put you over my knee?

What? I pressed my lips into a thin line as all sorts of images

came to my mind’s eye. Nikolai thought he was threatening
me, but secretly, that idea didn’t sound so bad.
 Sienna Mayfield:

Do you?

It took him a while to answer.

Nikolai Hale:

Since day one, Sunshine.

Sweet warmth spread through my belly and moved down

between my legs. I could almost feel his hand on my ass.
 Sienna Mayfield:

Maybe I’d like that too.

Oh, and how I would like that. All night.

Nikolai Hale:

Careful or you’ll end up with my handprint as a

souvenir.
 Sienna Mayfield:

So much talk and so little action. I’m getting

bored.

I waited to see if he would bite. Maybe I’d unleash an

avalanche that would swallow us both.
Nikolai Hale:

Don’t test me, Sunshine.

 Sienna Mayfield:

Oh, but it’s so fun to see you all worked up.

I chuckled and imagined the look on Nikolai’s face as he typed

his messages; asked myself if he felt that heat inside him, too.
After a few minutes, I had given up hope of an answer and
went back to my walk. The longer he had to wait for me, the
better.
 NIKOLAI

I had been waiting for hours and hours, and Sienna was still
not home. Not that I was that desperate, but I had a surprise for
her and if she wasn’t here in the next half hour, I had to cancel
the whole thing.
It had cost me some favours and if I had to make one more
phone call today, I would go feral. But it was worth it; at least
I hoped.
Just as I was about to pour myself more coffee, I heard the
front door open. Sienna stepped into the kitchen, out of breath,
her face sweaty and her cheeks red.
“What happened?” I asked, and Sienna flinched as if she
hadn’t been expecting me.
“Nothing,” she replied, panting. Had she been jogging?
“Sienna…”, I warned in a low voice and only when she
looked me in the eye did she realise that I was still waiting for
an answer.
With a sigh, she scratched the back of her head and finally
spoke.
“I wanted to pet a cute dog,” Sienna began, and I had a
feeling about what she was about to tell. “It turns out he
wasn’t so cute after all. The beast almost bit my head off and I
had to run for dear life to avoid being his next meal.”
I couldn’t help but burst out laughing, throwing my head
back. My abdomen hurt already and Sienna’s face turned so
red I thought she was going to scorch from the inside. I would
have loved to see her running away from a rampaging street
dog. Fortunately, he must have been quite old, otherwise she
could hardly have escaped him.
“It’s not funny. I’ve seen my life flash before my eyes,”
she hissed between gritted teeth, which made me laugh even
harder.
Sienna turned her back on me and was about to leave, but I
grabbed her wrist and held her tight. Annoyed, she turned
around, and I focused to stay calm.
“Go and pack your things; we’re leaving. You have one
hour,” I finally demanded, and she looked at me, confused.
“Are we going to McDonalds? I only need five,” she
replied and was about to put her hair in a ponytail. I shook my
head.
“No.” A smile crossed my lips. “To France.”
 29

I couldn’t believe what was playing out before my eyes.

Nikolai had actually organised a private jet to fly me out to
France, and I was standing there, baffled, with the
McDonald’s bag in my hand, my hair blowing in the wind.
The plane’s gleaming fuselage, adorned with a lustrous
coat of cream and midnight blue, seemed to catch the evening
sun and reflect it back in a dazzling display of grandeur.
My heart was beating faster with every step I took forward,
and I was afraid I would soon faint out of excitement. But
Nikolai was by my side, clad in a perfectly tailored midnight
black suit, while I was wearing my denim skirt and a white
crop top you could tie at the front. It looked cute but not
private jet-cute.
He held out his hand to steady me as I gingerly took the
first step up the wobbly stairs.
After that, I managed on my own and climbed them up,
looking like someone who had entered a candy shop for the
very first time.
A crew of a pretty brunette in her late 30s and a young
pilot greeted us, and I shook both their hands like a moron.
Was that the appropriate etiquette for such an occasion?
Meanwhile, Nikolai, a paragon of sophistication, nodded in
polite acknowledgment, seemingly unfazed by the situation.
He guided me further into the heart of the plane, the
interior unfolding before my eyes like a hidden treasure trove.
The cabin exuded an aura of pure luxury, from the
meticulously crafted furnishings to the soft glow of ambient
lighting.
The plush seats were adorned with sumptuous cream
fabrics, and the dark, polished surfaces gleamed with
immaculate perfection.
Nikolai, ever the gracious host, led me towards a seating
area consisting of two opposing lie-flat seats, so comfortable
you could instantly fall asleep in them.
“Wait,” he said and pressed a button so that a table went up
and I could put the McDonald’s bag down. “Better.”
I grinned at him, and when he saw the expression on my
face, he had to grin too. He looked even better when he
smiled, though that was hardly possible.
“It’s just amazing,” I said and looked around once more,
shocked by the sheer elegance.
Even the dark carpet looked like it had cost a fortune.
“What’s back there?”
He followed my outstretched finger into a separate area.
“The living room, so to speak. There’s a couch and a TV,”
he answered with a shrug. Could this plane get any cooler?
Not likely.
“I’m sure the girls won’t believe me,” I joked and looked
at my phone. “I didn’t even text them, wait…”
Nikolai leaned back.
“I’ve already taken care of that.” I looked at him,
perplexed. “What? Do you think I would have had any idea of
how we would have found them if I hadn’t asked them for
specific location details?” He raised an eyebrow. “They’re
waiting for us next to the toilets, by the way.”
A laugh escaped my lips. Oh God, this whole scenario was
so surreal. I felt like I was in a trance, guided by an invisible
hand.
The stewardess came to us almost silently and put
refreshments on the table.
 “Have I thanked you yet?” I asked as I stuffed fries into
my mouth.
“About a hundred times.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re
welcome.” If someone had told me a few weeks ago that I
would fly to a festival with Nikolai Hale in his private jet this
summer, I would have laughed at them.
This wasn’t fantasy, though, this was real; exciting and
scary at the same time.
But this wonderful experience was quickly overshadowed
by something else. Nikolai had explained curtly to my father
that he wanted to accompany me to France because I should
not fly alone. I couldn’t really read my father’s expression, but
I could see something like a warning in his eyes. As quickly as
it had come, it had disappeared again. Still, the bitter aftertaste
of our secrecy remained.
The pilot’s announcement rang out and brought me out of
my thoughts. Before I could fully process what he had said, we
were already moving, and I was clapping my hands in delight,
like I was in a bookstore on Black Friday.
As the plane taxied along the runway, my heartbeat
quickened, mirroring the rising excitement within me. The
anticipation of take-off tingled in the air, an electric energy
that enveloped the cabin. I tightened my grip on the armrest,
my fingers instinctively seeking solace in the familiar texture
beneath them.
The plane accelerated, gradually gaining speed, and a
gentle force pressed me back into my seat. The world beyond
the window turned into a mere blur of colours and lights as we
surged forward with increasing velocity.
I could feel the plane reaching its threshold, ready to break
free from the earthly bonds that held it captive. And then, it
happened. The nose of the aircraft tilted upward, defying
gravity’s pull. The ground beneath us seemed to shrink, fading
away into the distance as we ascended into the sky.
The gentle vibrations of the aircraft, the subtle shifts in
pressure, all served as reminders that I was now soaring amidst
the clouds.
Peering out of the window, I marvelled at the majestic
spectacle before me. The sky, a kaleidoscope of streaks of
pastel pinks and oranges, seemed to stretch boundlessly, as if
holding infinite possibilities and the cityscape, with its busy
streets and towering buildings, was reduced to mere specks on
a canvas. The patchwork of fields and rivers unfolded beneath
us, nature’s mosaic spread out in all its splendour.
The plane, now cruising steadily at its designated altitude,
settled into a harmonious rhythm. The initial jolts and
accelerations gave way to a serene tranquillity.
For a few moments, we just sat there, me with the burger
in my hand and Nikolai with his phone. His brow was
furrowed, and he was typing stiffly.
I cleared my throat, and he looked up.
“Can I ask you something?” He tilted his head and
gestured for me to continue.
“Do you also think,” I began, and the question sounded
stupid even in my head. “Do you also think that my father
behaves kind of odd lately? I mean, I don’t really have
comparisons, since I didn’t live with him, but—“ Nikolai
leaned back and crossed his arms.
“I don’t know what you mean. Your father is the same as
always.” He sounded more than convinced and made me doubt
myself.
“He had never been very…talkative and certainly not
sociable. I don’t know; I have a gut feeling he’s hiding
something from me.” I shrugged and reflected on the last few
weeks. “Oh, maybe he’s found himself a girlfriend in Spain.
That’s why he’s away so much and so tired all the time.” I
shuddered at the thoughts and tried to push them away. Not
that I wouldn’t be happy for him, I certainly would, but I
didn’t want to think about how my father would behave
around a woman he loved.
Nikolai almost laughed.
 “Believe me, your father certainly doesn’t have anyone
new. He’s just stressed,” Nikolai assured me. “But he’s fine.” I
nodded. If his best friend said that, then it must be true.
Besides, I hardly believed that Nikolai would lie to me. Not
after we had shared so much together.
The pilot’s friendly voice rang out: “In one hour, we will
reach the French Riviera and land in Nice.”
“Okay, I’ll take your word for it. But if there’s anything,
you’ll tell me, won’t you?” He nodded, looked out of the
window, and watched the clouds below us.
“Promise?” I probed, and he sighed in irritation.
“Yes, Si. Promise.”
Satisfied, I leaned back, and the stewardess was
immediately on the spot. She quickly cleared the rubbish from
the table and silently left before I could thank her.
“Do you think she needs help?” I whispered and Nikolai
made a dismissive hand movement.
“She’d bite your head off if you got in her way.” A small
grin crossed his lips, and I shook my head.
Nikolai pressed a button, and pleasant music filled the
silence. Maybe I should have slept to have more energy later,
but I couldn’t miss a second of this surreal moment.
“Do you know how polluting a private jet is?” I eventually
asked. If he travelled everywhere that way, we would soon
only be able to leave the house with gas masks and SPF 100
sunscreens.
“You can get off, Sunshine. No one is forcing you to be
here,” he returned with amusement, and I rolled my eyes.
“Have you looked at the line-up? Is there a band you’d like
to see?” I asked, trying to change the subject.
“No and no.” So he really had organised this just for me, I
thought to myself. Warmth spread across my chest at the
thought.
 I tried to imagine how he would look like at the festival in
his tailor-made suit amid all the sweaty teens—surely good
enough to eat.
I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. At that moment, our
eyes met, and he raised an eyebrow.
“Aren’t you feeling well?” he asked with amusement, and I
shook my head.
“I’m okay.” I brushed my hair out of my face. Has it gotten
warmer in here?
Nikolai tapped his fingers on the wood, and I stared at
them carefully. Had they always been this long, or did it only
seem that way now, so high above the sea, my father far away?
Images of our night together flashed before my eyes and I
tried to banish them. This was certainly not the right time.
“What are you thinking about, Sunshine?” I briefly
debated being brave, but I dismissed the idea. I definitely
didn’t want to make a fool of myself in a room I couldn’t get
out of.
“This and that,” I finally replied, inspecting my nails far
too intently.
“Hmm. This ‘this and that’ seems to get you pretty worked
up.” His voice had gotten rougher, somehow. Or was I just
imagining it? The air grew thick between us; I could almost
feel it around me.
Nikolai shifted his weight and let his ankle rest on his right
knee.
“You’re just imagining it,” I retorted and tried to distract
myself by looking out of the window, but it was no use. His
presence enveloped me like a coat that made me sweat, had a
firm grip on me and wouldn’t let me go. Eventually, I couldn’t
stand the silence any longer.
“Do you want to play a game?” A look I couldn’t read
flitted across Nikolai’s features.
“I hate games,” he admitted dryly, and I rolled my eyes.
 “You’ll like this one. It’s called truth or dare. Heard of it?”
I pressed the button that made the table disappear.
“Of course I know the game, Sienna,” he said, and I raised
my hands in defence.
“I dare you to be silent for the rest of the flight.” My
mouth dropped open, and I almost kicked his shin. Lightly, of
course.
“That’s not how you play it,” I snarled.
He laughed. “I didn’t realise this game had so many rules.”
I crossed my legs. All right.
“Truth or dare, Nikolai?” He rolled his eyes and finally
exhaled in annoyance.
“Truth.” I tapped my chin and thought.
“Have you ever had sex on this private jet?” I finally asked
and added, “You have to be honest.”
“Thanks for the hint; I was afraid I hadn’t understood the
game.” A provocative smile flitted across his lips. “And no.” I
leaned back in satisfaction. “Yet,” he added, and I shot him a
nasty look.
“Now it’s your turn,” I demanded, and he rolled his eyes,
clearly not in the mood to play with me.
“Truth or dare, Sienna?” I considered it for a moment.
“Dare,” I answered confidently. I could tell by the look on
his face that he hadn’t expected my choice. A while passed in
which he pondered and something in his gaze changed before
he put his mask back on.
“Pour me some water.” My shoulders slumped. Couldn’t
he have dared anything more exciting? Disappointed, I did as
he requested and asked him the same question again.
Nikolai chose truth. All right, he wanted it that way.
“What is your greatest fantasy?” A triumphant smile
spread across my lips as I saw his façade slowly but surely
crumble.
 “Dare,” he replied, and I shook my head. This wasn’t how
it was played.
“That dirty?” I asked with amusement.
He eyed me from top to bottom to the point where I shifted
nervously in my seat.
“Oh, you have no idea, Sunshine.” I bit my lower lip and
thought about what had to be so twisted that he wouldn’t tell
me.
“Okay, I’ll make an exception. When we get back to Spain,
you’ll have to wear grey sweatpants for a whole day.” Nikolai
looked at me perplexed. Sweet summer child didn’t know
what was so interesting about that.
“Deal. Truth or dare?” He would surely give me another
stupid dare, so I rather picked truth. How hard could his
question be?
“Have you touched yourself after we kissed?” My mouth
dropped open and my face had to be almost as red as a tomato.
I had not been prepared for this question, and judging by the
look on Nikolai’s face, he thought he had won. But I wouldn’t
give him the satisfaction, so I answered honestly.
“Yes.” He took a sip of the water I served him and said
nothing. For a moment, I was afraid he hadn’t heard me, but
then he leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees.
“Pity I wasn’t there to witness it.” Hmm, too bad, I thought
to myself, feeling the sweet warmth spreading through my
core, wandering down.
“Truth or dare, Nikolai?” I mimicked his position, our
faces no longer so far apart.
“Truth,” he whispered, looking at me challengingly. I
didn’t have to think long because this question had been
haunting me since our night together.
“Would you have slept with me if I had asked you to?”
The answer came far too quickly. “Yes.”
 I shuddered at the desperate edge in his voice. If only he
had stayed longer that night, maybe I would have gathered the
courage to ask him, but I had been a coward.
“Last round. Truth or dare?” Would he ask me to kiss him
as a dare? And could I stop myself from throwing myself at
him? Probably not. He’d set clear boundaries and I wouldn’t
cross any of them unless he wanted me to. But with his face so
close to mine, it was damn hard. I could practically feel his
minty breath on my lips, or maybe that came straight from my
imagination.
“Truth,” I eventually said, and Nikolai gave me a wry
smile.
“How wet are you right now, Sunshine?” My pulse tripled
and my heart almost jumped out of my chest. I wasn’t used to
such questions and if I had been asked that a few weeks ago, I
would have run away screaming. But here, it was different. It
was almost as if these words would stay on this plane forever;
as if their answers would have no consequences up here.
I mirrored his smile.
“Come and see for yourself.” He swallowed and then
placed a finger under my chin, making me look him in the eye.
“Would you like me to?” Nikolai’s eyes burned with such
intensity I had rarely experienced. Slowly, I nodded without
taking my eyes off him. It would have been so easy to lean
forward, to take what I needed, and yet…. Boundaries, Sienna,
I reminded myself. I licked over my lower lip and he followed
the movement as if hypnotised.
“Truth or dare?” I finally asked, for the last time before
this dangerous dance would be over.
“Dare,” he answered without hesitation, looking at me
expectantly, as if inviting me to dare him to kiss me. But I
couldn’t do that, so I straightened up again.
“Massage my shoulders.” At least I was still getting
something out of the game. “They’re pretty tense.” I pouted
and turned around so that he had perfect access. With a sigh,
he rose and stood behind me.
 Nikolai placed his strong hands on my shoulders and, with
smooth movements, he did what I asked him to.
I closed my eyes, allowing the soothing sensation to
consume me. With each gentle stroke, the tension melted
away, replaced by a comforting sense of serenity, and I
couldn’t help but lean into his touch.
“You can go firmer, I won’t break,” I joked, and he
increased the pressure.
His fingers moved to my collarbones, stroking them while
his thumbs pressed into my tense muscles. Oh God, he was so
good at this. In another world, he could have been a masseur, I
thought.
A soft hmm came from my lips, after which his thumbs
moved to the spot between my shoulders and throat, his
fingers resting on my chest. My breath hitched as I felt his
fingertips move under the thin material of my top, moving up
and down. Was he doing it on purpose or was he so lost in the
massage that he didn’t notice?
Either way, I enjoyed it. Very much so. Nikolai’s fingers
moved lower and soon he was touching the hem of my white
see-through lace bralette.
I wanted to ask for more, but I couldn’t open my mouth.
Nothing good would have come out, anyway. I heard him
catch his breath and his movements became slower. He took
more time for each pressure, as if he enjoyed it more than I
did.
Nikolai’s fingers found their way under my bralette and
my nipples became so hard that it almost hurt. I leaned my
head back, wanting to rest it on his belly, and instantly felt
something hard pressing against the back of my head. Oh my
god.
In the same second that I realised I had his hard dick at the
back of my head, he wrapped one hand around my throat
while his other disappeared beneath the white lace entirely.
“What am I going to do with you, little monster?” he
asked, his voice as raspy as if he had been smoking all his life.
 “Everything,” I murmured without a second thought.
Nikolai took my nipple between his fingers and pinched. Just
so hard that it made me moan.
“Do you like that?” he asked as he increased the pressure
on my throat. I dared to look up, my head pressing along his
length. A primal sound came from his lips as he looked down
at me.
“I love it,” I whispered, spurring him on to toy with my
breast. I leaned into his cruel touch, wanting more, much
more.
“Stop moving your head, Sunshine.” I managed a wry
smile.
“Or what? Are you going to punish me?” His eyes
darkened, pure desire reflecting in them. He must have seen
the same in mine.
“Exactly. And you’d wish you’d never tempted me.” I
pressed my thighs together, wanting him here and now, no
matter who might be watching.
“Maybe I want to be punished,” I purred, and Nikolai
crouched behind me, his lips on my throat.
He kissed me, bit into my skin and licked over the marks. I
couldn’t think straight, could only feel. His scent invaded my
nose, and I breathed in deeper, wanting so badly to turn around
and claim his lips. But I couldn’t for fear I would destroy the
moment between us.
“I would die to fuck you right now,” Nikolai whispered in
my ear and I shivered, goosebumps all over my aching body.
“Then do it,” I replied as he kissed up and down my jaw.
“Please.”
His dark chuckle vibrated against my back, piercing
straight through my heart. “It sounds so sweet when you beg.”
Just as I was about to muster the courage to turn my head, the
pilot’s voice sounded.
Landing in ten minutes. Please take your seats. Had he
watched us? Were there cameras in here? I didn’t want to think
about it.
“We’re not done yet,” Nikolai warned as a parting gift and
tore himself away from me.
 30

A s I approached the towering gates of the festival, my

heart pounded with anticipation. The air was charged
with an electrifying energy, pulling me closer to the
vibrant chaos within. The thumping bass from the music
reverberated through my chest, synchronising with the
adrenaline coursing through my veins.
As I quickened my pace, a kaleidoscope of colours
engulfed my senses, captivating me with its intoxicating
allure.
The aroma of sizzling street food mingled with the
laughter and chatter of the crowd, creating a symphony of
excitement that danced around me. I felt alive, caught in a
whirlwind of pure bliss, ready to dive headfirst into this
mesmerising carnival of experiences. With a deep breath and a
beaming smile, I looked to my left, Nikolai already by my
side.
A security guard stopped me before I could step through
the gate and my escort shot him a warning look, causing the
blond guy to take a step back.
We showed him our wristbands with the festival logo and
he beckoned us in.
As night descended upon the festival, a breathtaking
transformation took place. The once vibrant hues exploded
into a celestial display of shimmering lights, illuminating the
entire site like a magical wonderland. Neon signs flickered and
danced in sync with the pulsating music, casting an ethereal
glow upon the ecstatic faces of the revellers. Streams of
colourful lasers cut through the darkness, painting the night
sky with trails of electrifying brilliance. The air was filled with
an intoxicating rhythm that echoed across the expansive
grounds, drawing me deeper into the heart of the exhilarating
madness. Everywhere I turned, there were radiant smiles,
infectious laughter, and bodies swaying to the irresistible
rhythm.
“Isn’t this amazing?” I shouted over the loud music.
Luckily, we had arrived on time. It would be another half hour
before my favourite band would perform, so I had plenty of
time to find the girls.
“Yes, magnificent,” he replied, but I could see on his face
how he hated every second of being here.
Out of reflex, I grabbed his hand and pulled him along
with me. Instead of Nikolai shaking it off, he tightened his
grip. It wouldn’t be a good omen to lose sight of each other
before the actual performance. Losing a person at such a big
festival happened sooner than you thought.
I had studied the map of the grounds and had a rough plan
of how we would get to the meeting point.
Dozens of people got in our way, but all it took was a grim
look from Nikolai, and they all stepped aside. Convenient.
“I think we have to go that way,” I said and pointed to the
left. In the distance, you could see the blue portable toilets.
The closer we got, the more clearly I saw Ramona and
Blair, both in shorts and loose T-shirts. Ramona had her hair
braided, while Blair wore it straight as usual. She was
nervously looking around, probably searching for me in the
crowd, while Ramona was talking to two guys.
Only when I got closer did I realise it was her brother and
his best friend.
“Sienna,” Ramona called after turning around. She waved
at me vigorously and I practically ran into her arms, letting go
of Nikolai’s hand only at the last second.
 “Oh my God, I missed you so much,” I said as I pulled
Blair to us and we blurred into a ball of hugs.
“About time,” Blair called out after we had broken away
from each other.
Ramona’s gaze went back and forth between Nikolai and
me, and she raised an eyebrow.
Just with her eyes, she asked me if we had done it and I
gave her a warning look. This was certainly not the right time
to talk about my love life.
My gaze flitted to the boys, who were engaged in a heated
discussion.
“Long time no see, Si,” Luca, Ramona’s big brother, said,
tousling my hair. Nikolai gave him a grim look, and he
immediately pulled his hand away.
“How big you’ve grown,” I replied. That was our inside
joke, which always made him laugh. Zane, on the other hand,
remained silent, his arms crossed. It had been a while since I
had last seen him and you just couldn’t believe it, but he had
grown even taller. His dark hair was dishevelled and there was
something mysterious about his almost aristocratic features.
Not a bad sight; I had to give him that.
Blair looked at her watch. “Come on, let’s go. The band is
about to perform.” We all grabbed hands, with me and Nikolai
bringing up the rear.
Annoyed, he followed us through the jostling crowd and
flying elbows.
Like a bodyguard, he managed to intercept most of them,
so that I arrived near the stage almost unscathed. Not exactly
the best place, but we could see the band.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Ramona screeched again and
took my face to give me a kiss on the cheek. I motioned with
my head to Nikolai, who was the hero.
“It wouldn’t have been possible without Niko’s help,” I
replied, and she raised her eyebrows.
 “Uh, you already have pet names,” she said, looking at him
indiscreetly. “That’s so sweet.” Nikolai scowled at her in
return, but she didn’t take it to heart. Ramona was already
used to such looks from Zane, who could rival Nikolai when it
came to grouchiness.
I wondered why the boys had come along, anyway. After I
asked, Blair just shrugged. “They were worried something
could happen.”
“It’s my duty as a big brother,” he interjected, jamming his
elbow into Ramona’s ribs, who rolled her eyes.
“You only came because mom and dad threatened to take
away your car, so don’t act up.”
Before Luca could say anything back, the band appeared,
with a lead singer, a bassist, guitarist and the drummer. The
lead singer was the hottest of them all for sure.
As the anticipation reached its peak, the moment arrived.
A hush fell over the crowd, and the stage came alive with a
surge of energy. The flickering lights intensified, and a
deafening roar reverberated through the air.
Then, with a thunderous crash of drums and a blazing
eruption of guitars, the band burst into their first electrifying
chord. Instantly, a tidal wave of sound crashed over the
audience, engulfing us in a tsunami of pure sonic ecstasy. The
music coursed through our veins, igniting a collective fire
within our souls.
I looked over my shoulder at Nikolai, who nodded his head
barely noticeably. That was the only movement he showed,
and his expression seemed as if he was reading through
company documents. Maybe he even had more fun studying
reports.
“Do you like it?” I asked and had to repeat myself because
he hadn’t understood me.
“Yes,” he lied, and I didn’t respond. He certainly didn’t
want to be a killjoy, I thought to myself. I turned around again
and enjoyed the electrifying feeling on my skin.
 Bodies surged forward, hands thrusting into the air, as we
became one pulsating, harmonious entity. Each note, each
beat, was a jolt of adrenaline, intensifying the already palpable
atmosphere of exhilaration.
In that extraordinary moment, the barriers between
performer and audience dissolved, and we were united in a
transcendent union of music, emotion, and pure joy.
But the euphoria quickly faded as people became more and
more pushy, rushing forward and moving in front of me. I
wasn’t short, but my view of the stage was still blocked all too
quickly by a big guy with his hands up in the air.
Annoyed, I tried to stand on my tiptoes so I could catch a
glimpse of the singer—in vain.
Suddenly, Nikolai grabbed me by the upper arm, calling
my attention. “Get on my shoulders,” he shouted and squatted
down so that I could easily climb up. A little hesitant, I moved
up to him and awkwardly wrapped my thighs around his neck.
My heart skipped a beat as he straightened up without
much of a difficulty. Smiling, I held on to his hands for dear
life.
From this elevated point, the world transformed before my
eyes. I could almost see the entire expanse of the festival, the
pulsating stage, and the undulating sea of ecstatic faces. It was
a breathtaking view, a perspective of pure exhilaration. With
each beat of the music, I could feel the collective energy of the
crowd reverberate through my very being. From atop his
shoulders, I danced and swayed, my spirit soaring in unison
with the music.
Niko became my steadfast anchor, navigating the chaos
with grace, ensuring my safety while allowing me to fully
embrace the euphoria of the moment. His hands moved to my
upper thighs, and he squeezed them lightly. A shiver rushed
across my body, not from the cool evening air, but because he
was touching my bare skin.
I ran my fingers through his soft hair, and he leaned into
my touch. It was an intimate gesture, one of trust that said so
much.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zane help Ramona onto
his shoulders too and my mouth almost dropped open because
I would never have thought him so obliging. Luca’s
unreadable gaze flitted across the two of them while my friend
sang along from the top of her lungs. A small smile flitted
across Zane’s lips, and as quickly as it had come, it
disappeared.
Ramona’s brother offered Blair a seat on his shoulders too,
but she looked around hesitantly, as if someone might be
watching her. Blair had seemed so paranoid all evening, which
didn’t suit her at all, and I wondered what was going on.
I made a mental note to ask her about it, of course. Finally,
Luca convinced her and my friend put her thighs around his
neck.
Together, we sat there feeling on top of the world, locked
fingers, love coursing through our hands where we touched
and into the other. I felt more alive than I had in a long time,
my body moving in sync with the bass as my heart opened for
the man who caressed my thighs like a lover.

A FTER SEVERAL SONGS , the band bowed out with a fireworks

show that almost made you go blind. It was as if the colourful
sparks created a holy halo over the heads of the roaring
audience, cradling us all in their arms of pure magic. As the
crowd slowly dispersed, the guys put us down, my legs
already stiff from the tense posture. While Nikolai didn’t look
tired at all, exhaustion crept into my bones and I couldn’t wait
to lay my head on the fluffy pillow and slowly drift off.
“It was simply madness,” Ramona squealed as she linked
arms with me and Blair and led us to a booth away from the
people. Blair mumbled something about a headache and I
pulled out a pack of painkillers from my shoulder bag and
gave her one. I always had them with me; you never knew
who might need them. Especially at a festival where the music
almost burst your eardrums.
“Thanks, Si,” she said hoarsely from singing along, and
swallowed them with a few gulps of water.
“So are you joining us at our camp?” Luca asked, his
cheeks heated and his hair sweaty. I dared a glance in
Nikolai’s direction, who was sizing up the surroundings like
hostile terrain. Did he never break from his controlling
manner? It wasn’t as if we could be ambushed at any second. I
shook my head.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.” Ramona gave me her puppy-
eyes, but even that did nothing to fight my tiredness. I yawned
demonstratively, and she gave up her attempts to persuade me.
“When are you coming home?” Blair asked, combing
through her long hair with her fingers. I waited for Nikolai to
answer, as I was sure he had discussed the matter with my
father, but he remained silent.
“Soon, I believe. I think my father is already sick of me,” I
joked, and yet my friends didn’t buy my smile. Instead, anger
flitted across their features and they didn’t even try to contain
it.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Ramona asked
sympathetically, but I waved her off. It was not the right time
to talk about these problems.
“I’ll tell you at home, but it’s hardly worth mentioning.”
They gave each other a knowing look, as if they had heard this
exact same line dozens of times before. Finally, I said goodbye
to everyone, hugging Blair and Ramona tightly. But before I
could free myself from their crushing arms, Ramona
whispered to me, “He’s crazy about you. Do it.”
I rolled my eyes and before I knew it, we were on our way
back to the plane where the crew was patiently waiting for us.
He’s crazy about you…
 31

T he private jet greeted us with dimmed lights, the music

in the background soft and pleasant.
I dropped into the plush seat and the stewardess came and
asked if we needed anything. Nikolai promptly replied on my
behalf and ordered something to eat. I hadn’t noticed how
loudly my stomach growled; had all the dancing and singing
really made me so hungry? Apparently, it had.
Just before the plane took off, she brought me an oversized
sandwich, and I wolfed down every bite like a starving woman
while Nikolai watched me, satisfied. “I’ll never forget what
you did for me today,” I murmured after the stewardess had
taken the empty plate back and I was about to beg her to let
me help.
“You’re welcome, Sunshine,” he said, before looking
down at his phone. The turbines howled, and the plane started
moving. We got pressed into our seats and I debated whether I
would embarrass myself by asking Nikolai if there was a
shower.
To be on the safe side, I had brought a change of clothes.
You never knew if someone would spill drinks on you or
vomit all over your shoes. Eventually, I couldn’t stand sitting
there in my sweaty top any longer. “Is there a shower or
something?” I asked, and he looked up, frowning.
A moment passed before he answered. “Yeah, come on,
I’ll show you how it works.”
 After washing myself in the small cabin with what was
surely far too expensive soap, I wrapped a towel around my
body and stepped into the living room, as Nikolai called it. To
my surprise, he was sitting there, leaning back with his arms
crossed. His entire posture radiated dominance and somehow,
I found it hard to take my eyes off him.
“Did everything go well?” he asked as he looked me over
from head to toe. I nodded and sat down at his side. He had
seen me with much less on.
“What are you doing?” Nikolai’s voice was deep,
dangerous and I couldn’t help but bathe in its sound.
“Keeping you company,” I replied innocently, shrugging
my shoulders. Whether a towel or my clothes were covering
me, it was the same. “Do you want to watch a movie or
something?” I pointed to the small TV in front of us.
“No.” Ouch… Would we be sitting in complete silence for
the rest of the flight? Were we back at the beginning? I hoped
not. Nikolai stubbornly looked straight ahead as if I didn’t
exist beside him. His mood swings gave me whiplash, for sure.
“I dare you to speak to me,” I finally quipped. After all, he
had said that the game wasn’t over yet. Nikolai turned, facing
me, his elbow propped on the backrest. His face didn’t betray
what was going on inside his head, and I wondered if I’d said
something wrong. But we’d barely talked since we’d got onto
the plane, so the chance was pretty slim.
“What do you want to talk about?” He raised an eyebrow
and I shrugged.
“It doesn’t matter, just pick something,” I prompted, and
he thought for a moment.
“You and this Luca guy seem very…close,” Nikolai said
between gritted teeth and I couldn’t help laughing. Was he a
bit jealous? It certainly looked like it.
“Me and Luca have known each other almost our entire
lives and for me, he has always just been Ramona’s big
brother, which makes him practically my own.” I wrinkled my
nose. “So don’t worry.”
 “I don’t.” His tone said otherwise, though.
“Want to play another round of truth or dare? My feet hurt
pretty bad,” I quipped and wriggled my toes. A foot massage
would be just perfect right now. I looked back at Nikolai, and
something in his expression had changed. “Believe me
Sunshine, you wouldn’t like the dares I have in mind.”
Goosebumps spread across my body, my nipples hardening.
Of course, that didn’t go unnoticed.
“Truth or dare, Niko?” He took a deep breath and nodded
towards my feet.
“Put them on my lap already, little monster,” he demanded
in resignation, and my lips parted at the new nickname. I
didn’t know which I liked better. Eventually, I did as he said
and leaned back, my shoulders propped up on the low armrest.
His hands began to massage my tense feet, gently at first,
then with more force, and I sighed in satisfaction. If he did this
much longer, I would surely fall asleep, I thought to myself.
“You are so good at this,” I praised. A cocky yeah? came
over his lips and I nodded, my eyes closed. I didn’t know if
minutes or hours had passed, but slowly, I felt his hands move
to my calves and caressed my skin. Air caught in my throat.
Nikolai took his time with every movement, almost as if it
gave him the greatest delight. His fingers moved to my knees,
and I giggled because his fingertips tickled me. Still, his
steady movements relaxed me, smooth as waves.
“Spread your legs, Sunshine,” he breathed, and I was
unable to say anything, could barely process what he was
asking of me. Was he… “So I can massage your thighs, too.” I
swallowed hard and finally did as he asked, though I would
have preferred to clench them. Not from shame, but from
desire.
Nikolai moved one hand under the towel, gripping my
inner thigh as the other rested on my knee. I shivered at the
thought of his hand, so close to where I needed it most.
His thumb kneaded my muscles, relaxing and tensing my
body at the same time. I got bold and opened up more, giving
him better access, and I felt him getting hard under my ankles.
Purely by accident, I applied more pressure between his legs
as I moved and he drew in a sharp breath. Oh, what a
dangerous game we were playing and yet I would be the last
one to break away.
In response, his hand moved up and his thumb almost
grazed the spot that was aching for him. Just a little higher and
he would feel exactly how much I wanted him.
Nikolai shifted his hips, his length rubbing against me.
How I would have loved to reach out to him, to grant him
sweet release.
“Do you want me to touch you?” he asked, my lips parted.
I nodded, but he wasn’t pleased. “Say it.”
“Yes,” I breathed. “Touch me.” A dark chuckle came over
his lips. “Only if you open your eyes. I want you to look at me
while I make you come.” Biting my lower lip, I did as he
asked. Pure fire blazed in his hungry eyes while he looked at
me as if I were the answer to all his questions.
And then his finger grazed my wetness and circled my
entrance, eliciting eliciting a throaty moan. But it wasn’t
enough, probably never could be.
I bucked my hips to meet his touch, and he clicked his
tongue.
“Greed is a sin.” But I didn’t care; I didn’t care about
anything at that moment. There was only his finger teasing
me, his smell in my nose and his eyes on me. “Let me look at
you,” he said, and his other hand unknotted my towel. It slid
off me like silk and left me bare under Nikolai’s gaze.
I couldn’t stop the blush creeping up my cheeks.
“You are more exquisite than I had imagined.” And with
those words, he sunk his finger into me. His name came over
my lips like a prayer while his thumb massaged my most
sensitive spot. “So wet; just for me.” I nodded, my sanity
hanging by a thin thread.
Nikolai picked up speed, and I begged for more. He gave
me what I needed and buried another finger inside me. Yes,
yes, yes… I stood on the edge of salvation, my soul yearning
for him.
Nikolai upped the pressure of his thumb while his other
hand played with my breast. It was the hottest thing I had
experienced in my life, Nikolai watching every emotion on my
face while his hardness pressed into my foot, twitching with
desire.
“Come for me, Sunshine,” he growled and I couldn’t take
it anymore. With a cry of pure bliss, I shattered beneath him.
Nikolai smiled while my thighs trembled uncontrollably.
With a final curl of his fingers, he released me and my lips
parted as he put them in his mouth, tasting me. He closed his
eyes for a brief moment, savouring it.
“Truth or dare, Sienna?” Nikolai asked, his lips glistening.
“Dare,” I breathed and a wry smile formed on his face. In
that moment, he could have asked me for anything. Even my
heart.
“Kneel before me.” His dominant tone did all sorts of
things to me, and I followed his order, settling between his
thighs. Nikolai’s fingers ran through my hair. “Unbuckle my
belt.” With shaky fingers, I reached out, loosened the prong
and pulled the belt out of the loops.
“And now be a good girl and put my dick into your pretty
mouth.” I inhaled sharply. No one had ever said anything like
that to me before and it turned me on beyond measure.
I looked into his hazel eyes as I licked my lips and
wrapped them around his hard length, taking him inch by inch
and sucking slightly.
“Fuck,” he hissed, breathing heavily and clawing his
fingers into my hair.
I devoured him, took him all the way into my mouth until I
couldn’t fit any more. His breath was shallow as he pulsed on
my tongue. “Yes, just like that,” Nikolai moaned, and I smiled.
It drove me crazy how responsive he was to my body.
 I wrapped my fingers around his base, massaging him as
he whispered my name like a prayer.
He shifted his hips forward as I increased the pressure of
my tongue, tasting the pre-cum and knowing he was about to
explode.
I lifted my gaze, looked him in the eye.
“I’ve dreamt of this view since I first saw you,” he sighed
and as a response, I upped my pace, brought him on the edge
and took him out of my mouth before I granted him sweet
release.
“Truth or dare, Nikolai?” I purred, and he released a
ragged breath.
“Dare,” he uttered and in that second, I felt I could demand
anything from him. My thumb massaged his head while I
mused.
Eventually, I lifted my gaze, and something unreadable
flitted across his features. “I dare you to fuck me.”
In one swift movement, he pulled me onto his lap, so I was
straddling him. “Such filthy words, Sunshine.” A blink later,
his lips were on mine and I moaned against his mouth as I felt
his dick between my legs.
“Please,” I whimpered when he wouldn’t let me lower
myself.
“There is no going back after this. Are you sure?” I licked
along his throat, kissing the sensitive spot between his ear and
his jaw while his tip teased my entrance.
“I’ve never been so sure,” I whispered, and that was all he
needed to hear. With one powerful thrust, Nikolai Hale buried
himself deep inside me, claiming me, my body, his.
 NIKOLAI

If I were a religious man, I would have believed I was in

heaven, and Sienna’s cries of pleasure would be the sound of
paradise.
My Sunshine took my dick so well, her body made for me.
I whispered sweet nothings in her ear and she returned
them with throaty moans that nearly drove me insane.
Sienna clawed into my shoulders as she was riding me, my
dick all the way inside her. I grabbed her by the hips, moving
her in a rhythm I couldn’t keep up for much longer. Because
the truth was that the mere sight of her, naked and with my
fingers inside her, almost made me come.
“You’re doing so good,” I whispered against her throat and
I felt her shiver at my praise, rubbing her swollen clit against
me and dripping all over my thighs.
Greedy as she was, she moved faster, and I sucked in a
sharp breath as her walls clamped around me. Our lips met
again, and I knew I would never get enough.
In one smooth movement, I laid her on her back, me
towering over her. Sienna’s puffy lips and dishevelled hair
made her even more beautiful, if that was even possible, I
thought. My little monster looked at me expectantly, and I let
my pants be swallowed by the ground.
The next moment, I was on top and claimed her body
agonisingly slowly, savouring how her throbbing pussy felt
around my dick. God, she was so tight, so wet, so warm. So
perfect for me.
I stifled her moans with my lips while she bucked her hips
to take me in deeper. We became one, sharing the same soul.
“What are you doing to me, Niko?” she asked breathlessly,
and I shook my head.
“Claiming you as mine as you’ve always been.” My
thrusts became faster, more frantic until her walls clenched,
gripping me hard. I threw my head back and spilled into her,
filling her with my cum. She screamed my name while trailing
her nails down my back, drawing blood, and I enjoyed her
marks on my skin. I was hers, truly, completely and utterly.
“No matter what happens, believe me when I say this was
real.” She gave me a questioning look, but I didn’t elaborate.
How could I if she would only hate me afterwards? I wanted
to burn Sienna’s loving gaze into my soul, a gaze that was
meant only for me.
She wanted to straighten up and clean herself, but I
stopped her, my lips close to her ear.
“My cum stays exactly where it belongs.” Sienna
swallowed and her rosy lips parted. Oh, how I would have
loved to pull her to my chest once more, but we would soon
land and this fairy tale would be over. Below us was reality. A
reality in which we would never have a chance. But up here,
our hearts beat in sync.
 32

T he moon had long since passed its zenith when we

finally landed at the gates of Barcelona and drove home.
I could still feel Nikolai’s release between my legs every
time I moved, and it would have been a lie if I said it didn’t
turn me on.
A souvenir of our night together, the best sex I had ever
had. And yet I was afraid. Not of him, of course, but of the
consequences for my heart. There was something undeniable,
something strong between us, and I dreaded the moment we
arrived back at the villa. Because when we arrived, the
evening would be over. And when the evening was over, we
would have to go on with our lives as if nothing had ever
happened. And that hurt. Very much so.
We turned into the street leading to the villa, the car
stirring up dust and sand. The lights were on in the house and I
wondered if my father had even gone to bed. Well, he had
slept all day, so he certainly wouldn’t get a wink of it tonight. I
wasn’t naïve enough to believe that he had stayed up because
of me, though.
The gate opened, and I let out a soft sigh. Nikolai had been
silent the entire trip home, absent in his own thoughts, and I
hoped he wasn’t regretting the night already. I certainly didn’t,
could never.
He switched off the engine but made no move to get out of
the car. “Are you all right?” Nikolai asked, genuinely
concerned. I nodded and forced a smile.
 “You?” He thought for a moment and instead of answering
me, he pulled my face to his and kissed me softly. It wasn’t
one of those wild kisses and yet it made my heart beat faster. I
deepened the kiss, running my hands through his hair and
down his chest as he held my face as if begging me not to step
out of the car.
All too soon we broke away from each other again, a
thousand questions in his eyes. What he saw in mine, I didn’t
know. To be fair, I had no clue what to think myself, let alone
what to say. So I remained silent and opened the door.
Nikolai followed me into the house, the door unlocked, the
smell of tea greeting us at the entrance.
“There you are,” my father called from the kitchen, relief
in his tone.
I followed the source of his voice and found him sitting at
the kitchen counter, his face in front of the laptop.
“You’re still working at this hour?” I asked as I put down
my backpack. Only then did his eyes fall on me, and he
frowned.
Something shifted in my father’s gaze. I didn’t know what,
and before I knew it he was looking at his best friend, unaware
that Nikolai had moaned my name in my ear just a short while
ago. I shuddered at the images that flashed through my mind,
trying to block them out as best I could in my father’s
presence.
“So how was it? Did you have fun?” he probed and I
couldn’t look him in the eye, so I turned around and took a
bottle of water from the fridge.
“Yes, the concert was simply amazing. I didn’t realise how
much I had missed the girls.” Nikolai walked over to my
father and looked over his shoulder at the screen, then let out
an annoyed sigh.
“I’m glad to hear that,” he finally murmured, giving me a
smile that didn’t reach his eyes. I wondered if it showed on my
face that I had slept with his best friend. For my own sanity, I
decided to dismiss that question. If that were really the case,
an unstoppable storm would rage by now.
“I’m pretty tired. The night was very intense,” I finally
said when I was sure that the men would no longer pay me any
attention. My bed was calling and I could hardly wait to close
my eyes.
“Of course. Do you want to—“ my father murmured, “do
you want to have breakfast together tomorrow?” His hopeful
expression left me with no choice but to accept his offer. Who
but me would deny someone a chance to apologise?
With a yawn, I wished them both a good night and retired
to my room. Fortunately, I was too exhausted to reflect on
what had happened. Because then I would have to ask myself,
why my heart ached and beat faster at the same time.

H ALF ASLEEP AND with a bittersweet aching between my legs,

I made my way down to the kitchen, where the smell of
scrambled eggs and bacon was filling the air. A fine hint of
coffee crept up my nose and before I saw my father, I noticed
the almost festively arranged breakfast on the kitchen counter
in front of the bar stools. If there would have been candles,
you would think we were having a big Christmas brunch in the
middle of summer.
“This looks incredible, Dad,” I muttered as he approached
me with a funny-looking apron. He pulled the bar stool aside
so I could sit down. Dark circles adorned his face, the result of
his midnight working session, and I wondered how early he
must have got up to prepare all this.
“I hope you like it,” he replied proudly, and took a seat
next to me. I reached for the orange juice and poured us both
some.
“I think you’re the only person on a beach holiday who
turns pale instead of getting a tan,” I joked to lighten the mood
a little. My father took a sip and nodded.
 “Yes, it has always been like that. I think it runs in the
family.” He winked at me, and I took a bite. One thing about
my father, he certainly knew how to cook.
I looked down at my tanned skin and almost had to
disagree with him.
“Your mother, on the other hand, didn’t have a problem
getting a glow,” he added quickly. “She had never really been
to the beach, but every summer she turned the garden into her
own little beach bar. All the loud neighbourhood kids drove
your grandma crazy. Especially when they stomped all over
her precious roses.” I didn’t let the painful pang in my chest
show. My grandma had passed away a long time ago, probably
from a broken heart, and I never really had the chance to get to
know her that well.
“I would have been too if I were her,” I quipped. “As much
time as she invested in her flower beds.” My father nodded
with amusement.
“You’re right about that. But your mother was traumatised
by them,” he replied with his mouth full. It was amazing how
easily these words came off his tongue. Before, every word
about mom had pained him, you could see it in his eyes, but
today, he talked about her as if she could show up every
second; as if he hadn’t spent the last 23 years grieving for her.
“Why’s that?” I asked, taking a bite of the freshly baked
bread, and my father chuckled.
“Nana made your mother help her with her gardening
every weekend and if there was one thing she hated, it was
digging in dirt. I could almost hear her gagging all the way
into the house.” This side of my mother was completely new
to me, and I couldn’t help but laugh. It was almost as if a
puzzle was being put together in my head with every word he
said about her. “Even though we didn’t have much money, she
loved doing her hair and nails. Not that many people saw her
all dolled up, though. She often kept to herself reading her
books and didn’t like to go out. Quite unlike you,” he quipped,
and I wondered where I got my extrovert side from. Certainly
not from my parents.
 “You take after my father in that matter. They said he was
up for any party.” I could well imagine that. I had heard the
stories about his escapades and his womanising. It was only
when he met my grandmother that he became a model young
man. Sometimes, I wished I had met grandpa when he was still
young. We certainly would have painted the pubs red.
“I think we would have got on well,” I said in between sips
of juice, and he nodded. It was somehow easier for me to talk
to him and gradually, the anger I had felt a few days ago eased.
I knew it was a toxic cycle, but my insecurities wouldn’t let
me start an argument while he was trying so hard to make me
smile.
“Before I forget, I think I have an old cassette at home of
your mom trying to dye her hair for the first time.” My father
caught my attention instantly since I had never seen anything
of my mother except for a few pictures and blurry clips.
“What happened?” I asked, practically hanging on his lips.
My father laughed before he explained.
“One time, she decided to dye her hair the blackest of
black.” He shook his head. “But let’s just say it didn’t quite
turn out as she expected. Instead of the shade she had chosen,
her hair ended up green.” My father giggled like a schoolboy.
“She walked around with her ‘highlighter hair’ for a few days
before she could fix it. When she caught me filming her, she
didn’t talk to me for a week.” I threw my head back in
laughter. I couldn’t imagine what my mother had looked like
with dark hair and couldn’t wait to find the cassette.
“Even though she was very calm, her temper could almost
be like—“ He thought for a moment. “—that of your red-
haired friend.” If he wasn’t looking at me so seriously, I
almost thought he was pulling my leg. I imagined Ramona,
Blair and I having a girls’ night with my mom, braiding our
hair and watching cheesy movies. An indescribable emptiness
spread through my stomach as I thought about how I would
never have that. I didn’t miss my mother per se, but rather
what she would have embodied—love, security. The embrace
of the woman who would give her life for me.
 “I loved her so much,” my father finally whispered, his
eyes full of suppressed sorrow. “More than myself.” I reached
out and patted his shoulder. He gave me a sad smile, took my
hand and kissed the back of it. It was the most affectionate
thing he had ever done, and it took all my willpower not to
burst into tears. Is this what him caring for somebody felt like?
“I wonder how our relationship would have turned out if
your mother were still here.” I sighed. Would it really be so
different? His character would have remained the same, after
all.
“Don’t blame mother for us not having found the way back
to each other,” I threw in, taking Nikolai’s advice about not
always having to consider others’ feelings.
My father nodded. “You are right. It’s all my fault and I
will hate myself for the rest of my life for not being a father to
you.” With trembling fingers, I looked up at the ceiling. No, I
couldn’t cry, couldn’t give in.
“You can’t change the past and there’s too much broken
between us.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tear flow
down his cheek. I had never seen my father cry. Only heard it
sometimes, but he had never shared his emotions openly with
me. “But you can try to do better and someday—“ I turned my
gaze to him. “Someday we will heal. Together.”
Without warning, he wrapped his arms around me and
pressed me tightly against his chest, his breath ragged against
my hair. For as long as I can remember, my father hadn’t
hugged me. I didn’t know what it felt like to have his arms
around me, to feel protected. My father gave me a kiss on the
temple and his tears moistened my face.
“I love you, Si. You’ve always been my little girl,” he
whispered between hiccups. Pressing my lips together, I
hugged him tighter, comforted him, and rubbed his back. “I’m
so sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you…. I wish I could take
it all away.” But you can’t, I thought. The pain belongs to me
like my mother’s face.
And in that moment, I knew that he was hiding something
from me.
I T WAS EARLY EVENING , and I had decided to go for a swim.
The weather was just perfect and helped me sweat out my
pent-up rage.
Maybe I was paranoid, but every word made me more
afraid that my father wasn’t being completely honest with me.
His character had done a 180 in such a short time and that
wasn’t normal for a person, let alone one as self-centred as my
father. I didn’t know what he was hiding from me, just knew it
had to be something serious. Christopher Mayfield didn’t
change just like that unless someone was holding a gun to his
temple. And I would find out what calibre.
I was leaning against the edge of the pool, my legs floating
in the water, completely absorbed in my thoughts. Footsteps
drew closer and before I knew it, Nikolai towered over me,
wearing only black sports shorts. He had successfully ignored
me all day, and I hadn’t bothered to seek him out. Maybe he
just needed time to think, and I wanted to give him that. I
wasn’t naïve enough to think that last night had turned us into
more than we were: Two people on different planets; the same
heartbeat, yet destined to stay apart. I wondered if anyone used
to write poetry about people like us. Perhaps.
“Are you hiding out here?” he asked with his typical smile,
which looked more menacing than friendly.
“Yeah, there’s this guy in the house, you know?” I
quipped, shielding my eyes so I could see him better.
“Sounds awful. Do you want me to beat him up?” I
couldn’t help but laugh out loud because it would be exactly
something Nikolai would do. He was an undercover softie
with anger issues.
“I’ll hold him for you,” I finally replied, and he mirrored
my smirk.
I thought he was going to leave again, but instead, he just
eyed me and I enjoyed his gaze on my body. Still, I knew we
were granted nothing more than fleeting glances.
 “Shall I keep you company?” Nikolai asked, but before I
could answer, he had already jumped into the pool, splashing a
load of water in my face. What an ass, I muttered more to
myself.
“Not necessary,” I said and looked suspiciously towards
the living room, the door wide open and the curtains not
drawn. I didn’t want my father to get the wrong impression—
or rather the right one. It wasn’t exactly a good idea for his
best friend to follow me into the water.
In two big strokes, Nikolai was already in front of me.
Beads of water dripped onto his cheeks, his skin glistening in
the evening sun.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he demanded, and I looked away.
What could I tell him? He would only ridicule my suspicions
about my father anyway, so I remained silent. Nikolai was not
impressed and came closer, much too close. I wanted to look
back to see if my father was near, but Nikolai took my chin
between his fingers and pulled my face to him.
“What are you doing?” I hissed, flustered. Didn’t he
understand our situation, or did he simply love playing with
fire?
“Look at me.” His hypnotic gaze bored into mine.
“But—“ My protest was stifled by Nikolai’s lips. He
kissed me fleetingly, a stolen moment between two teenagers
who should have been home long ago. Butterflies fluttered in
my stomach, tickling me all over, and I smiled even though I
felt like screaming. “My father,” I whispered, and he let out a
dark chuckle.
Footsteps sounded behind me and a blink later, he was
underwater, holding onto my thighs. “Have you seen Nikolai?”
my father asked in the doorway, looking around for his friend.
I cleared my throat and gave my most nonchalant expression.
“Nikolai? No,” I muttered, hoping he would buy the act. I
was a terrible liar; at least that’s what Blair always said. Then I
felt my bikini being pulled to the side, eliciting an audible
breath. Oh my God…
 My father frowned at the sudden change in my face.
“What do you want to eat today? We could order Chinese
—“ Nikolai’s finger brushed my most sensitive spot, and I
clawed at his hair, pulling at it—a warning to stop.
“—pizza’s fine,” my father finally finished and took a step
closer.
“Stop,” I shouted, and he halted. “I mean, Chinese sounds
good,” I stammered, and he looked beyond confused. If he
would come any nearer, he would see his best friend touching
me in all the good ways.
“As you wish,” my father said, watching me for a moment.
“Are you all right?” At that moment, Nikolai pushed his finger
inside me and I had to muster all my willpower not to moan in
front of my father.
“All good,” I replied, breathing hard as his finger thrust
mercilessly inside me, his thumb massaging me exactly where
I needed it to.
“Are you getting out soon, then? We can watch a movie.
There’s some cheesy—“ Nikolai pushed my legs apart, so he
had better access and I cursed myself for giving in. This was
sick and oh my God, how I wanted more.
“Yeah, a movie sounds good, dad,” I replied, annoyed,
letting him know I wanted to be alone.
“Very well. Shall I get popco—“ I barely managed to stifle
a cry of pleasure.
“Holy fuck, dad, I’m meditating,” I shouted, my voice
rough. He raised his hands in defence and beat a retreat,
mumbling something about hormones. Only when he was out
of sight did I pull Nikolai up and he took a few deep breaths,
certainly wouldn’t have lasted half a minute more down there.
“Are you completely mad?” I hissed as he smirked, his
fingers still curling inside me, hitting exactly the right spot. I
clawed at his biceps and he pushed me against the pool wall,
his body against mine, and I felt his length against my belly.
 “Yes, I am,” he whispered and lowered his head. Nikolai
pushed the thin material off my breast, my nipple hard with
desire, craving his touch.
“We can’t do this,” I moaned as softly as I could and he
took it between his lips, sucking on it. Nikolai’s fingers pushed
deeper inside me and I stood on tiptoe, shifting my position.
Luckily the pool wasn’t that deep here, otherwise, I would
have drowned long ago.
“No, we can’t,” he panted, his lips on my breast. With a
quick motion, he lifted me up, and I wrapped my legs around
his centre, feeling his hardness between my legs. Only the thin
material of his shorts kept him from entering me and giving us
what we needed most.
Nikolai’s fingers found my entrance again, and I lowered
myself onto them. It was so fucked up, and I enjoyed every
second of it. “Now ride my fingers, Sunshine.” Blushing, I did
as he asked, while rubbing against his dick. He let out a torrent
of obscenities as I felt him getting harder and harder.
“Yes, just like that,” he whispered before claiming my lips.
I moved faster, chasing my release while massaging him at the
same time. “Does it turn you on that your father could catch us
at any time?” he asked, his voice low and breathless. Nikolai
pinched my nipple and I let out a muffled moan. “Answer
me.”
I swallowed hard. “Yes, yes, it turns me on.” Satisfied, he
smiled against my lips and I felt the climax building deep in
my belly.
Nikolai pressed himself harder against me and I could feel
that he was about to get there himself.
“Come for me, Niko,” I mimicked his words from
yesterday, and his hungry eyes flashed with desire. With a
deep, throaty growl, he curled his fingers inside me and
pushed me over the edge. A cry of pleasure came over my lips
as I came so hard my whole body trembled. A breath later, he
followed me, chests heaving in unison.
 “Oh, Sunshine, why can’t I get enough of you?” he
breathed before giving me one last kiss, his forehead on mine.
It was in this moment that I heard my heart serenading his
name and I knew I was damned.
 33

I t was on a Monday when everything went downhill. When

my life would change forever. A heap of shards in my
bleeding hands.
My father was laughing at some joke on the TV while I,
with his laptop on my lap, did some online shopping for the
autumn season.
Lost in thought, I scrolled through the shops and was
startled when the door fell back into its hinges with a dull
thud. Nikolai had been away all morning, doing some business
stuff, I heard. I was all the more surprised when he came into
the living room wearing grey sweatpants and a loose T-shirt. I
had never seen him dressed so casually before, and my eyes
nearly fell out of their sockets as I appraised him from head to
toe.
He raised an eyebrow, challenging me to say something.
Apparently, Nikolai hadn’t forgotten my dare yet: a day in
nothing but grey sweatpants. But there had never been any
mention of a T-shirt. Discreetly, I tugged at my top and he
caught my hint, rolled his eyes, and smirked in a different
direction.
“Were you out for a jog?” I asked innocently, and his gaze
shot in my direction.
“No, I have burned off enough energy in the last couple of
days,” he replied dryly, which made his statement all the
funnier. Yes, I bet you have.
 “Do you guys want to go out?” I finally asked and put the
laptop aside while music sounded from some playlist. I was
tired of sitting around when we could do some sightseeing in
the city. That way, my father and I could take some family
pictures. We didn’t have a single one together.
“I’m not feeling too well, Si,” my father said hoarsely.
“I’m a little dizzy.” Nikolai immediately went over to him and
they both exchanged a glance I couldn’t read.
“Do you want to see a doctor? We could go to the hospital
—“ I asked quickly, but my father interrupted me.
“No, no. It’s not that bad. Nikolai and I will just go to the
pharmacy and get something. I think I’ve just been out in the
sun for too long.” I looked at him sceptically, knowing full
well that he was lying. He hadn’t been in the sun today, but
had watched one film after another.
“Can I come, too?” No one answered. Instead of Nikolai
looking me in the eye and giving me a reassuring look, he
helped my father to his feet and avoided my gaze.
I went after them like a puppy, but they both ignored me
and my questions, slowly making me angry. What was their
problem and why wouldn’t they talk to me?
Before they could walk out the door, I blocked their way,
my father pale. Paler than usual.
“You don’t take another step until someone tells me what’s
going on,” I snarled with my arms crossed.
“Step aside, Sienna,” Nikolai urged impatiently as he
steadied my father. But I did not move a bit. It was about my
father, I had a right to know. And from the looks of it, he
wasn’t just a little dizzy.
“You heard him. Do what Nikolai says,” my father pressed
out weakly. I wouldn’t have given in if he hadn’t given me
such a harsh warning look. So he left me no choice but to step
aside.
In my pyjamas and slippers, I followed them to the car,
talking to both of them without pause, but I might as well have
been talking to a wall. Only when I reached the driver’s door
did Nikolai stop, his gaze pleading to let him go.
“Tell me what’s wrong, Niko,” I whispered so that only he
could hear. His pained eyes lingered on my mouth for a
moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispered back, closing the door
without another word. The engine howled and before I knew
it, they were gone and I was left in the driveway with my heart
pounding.
What was that? A thousand thoughts ran through my mind
as I beat a retreat and, with trembling fingers, I slammed the
door shut way too hard. My father’s condition was a matter for
the hospital, not a bloody pharmacy.
Furious, I stomped back into the living room and massaged
my temples, pushing my hair back. So my suspicion that my
father was hiding something was right after all. And that
meant… It meant that Nikolai had brazenly lied to my face.
Several times. Every second.
In a knee-jerk reaction, I picked up his laptop, which was
still playing music, and sat down on a bar stool. It wasn’t fair
to snoop through other people’s stuff, but I couldn’t help it; I
needed answers I wasn’t getting otherwise.
I went through the folders on the desktop but found only
contracts, order confirmations, reports, and invoices.
Everything seemed normal. The picture folder was also empty
and there were no strange apps installed. The laptop was
completely impersonal, purely for work, and I despaired with
every click. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
Even his search history, which I would have preferred not
to open at all, gave nothing. An exasperated groan escaped my
lips and with every click, my thread of patience grew thinner.
It was impossible that there was nothing incriminating on this
laptop. On the other hand, my father’s business wasn’t exactly
high on the legality scale, so it was only wise that he covered
his tracks.
My last chance to find something was in his emails. I
debated what kind of person that made me, breaking his trust
like that, but I couldn’t just sit there and be lied to. No, I was
sick of it.
I clicked on the app, but a box popped up asking me to
enter the password. Damn. I had no clue where to look, and
my father wasn’t stupid enough to write them down. Think,
Sienna, think…
That gave me an idea. Yes, it wasn’t far-fetched for normal
people, but was he really naïve enough to choose a birth date
as a password for his professional correspondence? Probably
not, but it was worth a try. If it didn’t work, I would have kept
looking in his room.
First, I entered his parents’ birthday. Denied. Then my
mother’s. Denied. A new sentence appeared, telling me I only
had one more try left. If I made another mistake, I had to
contact the company. I didn’t have time to think about it,
because if Nikolai and my father had really gone to the
pharmacy, they would have to come back at any moment.

Password: 27/09/1999
T HE DAY MY MOTHER DIED . His greatest loss.
Password accepted.

H IS EMAILS POPPED up before my eyes, and at first glance,

everything seemed normal. What did I expect? That I would
find a well-kept secret in one of his hundreds of business
emails? Unlikely.
Still, I kept scrolling, and yet I found nothing.
I entered some keywords in the search bar, not knowing
what I was looking for. Of course, nothing appeared.
Then an idea came to me. How about my name?
With sweaty palms, I typed Sienna Mayfield and a
seemingly endless correspondence with the Bowen & Belfield
Legal Services appeared. But what did my father want from a
legal office and what did it have to do with me? My gut told
me I wouldn’t like what I would find, but I ignored it,
knowing full well I would regret it.
I had overstepped more than enough boundaries; this one
wouldn’t make any difference, so I scrolled to the first email
and began to read.
 34

D ear Mr Mayfield,
We are delighted to inform you that Bowen &
Belfield Legal Services has successfully completed the
preparation of your property transfer documents (refer to
pages 3-4) as well as the transfer of your securities, including
shares and dividends (refer to pages 4-20), to your daughter,
Sienna Mayfield. The relevant contracts are ready for
collection at our office. Furthermore, a copy of your will has
already been forwarded to Nikolai Hale. We appreciate the
trust you have placed in us and are grateful for the opportunity
to assist you. Our team looks forward to continuing our
professional relationship and serving your legal needs in the
future. Should you require any further information or have any
questions, please do not hesitate to contact us.

W ISHING YOU ALL THE BEST ,

Bowen & Belfield Legal Services

B ITTER TEARS OF ANGER , fear and disappointment ran down

my cheeks as I closed the last email, realising the full extent of
the correspondence.
My father was ill, very ill even. And he knew he was going
to die. But—
The door opened.
 I quickly wiped the tears away, my chest tight, and it felt
like I wasn’t getting any air. No, I couldn’t have a panic attack
right now. Later, I could break down, but now I had to
confront my father, had to know why he had lied to me for so
long.
“We are ba—“ Nikolai said, but halted when he saw my
face. My father, still pale and wobbly on his feet, followed
him.
He looked back and forth between me and his laptop, and I
saw in his eyes how the dots connected. My father pressed his
lips into a thin line, waiting for the bomb to drop.
“Do you have something to tell me, father?” I asked, my
voice sounding surprisingly determined, even though I
couldn’t see clearly from tears a moment ago.
“What do you mean?” He came closer while Nikolai
wisely stayed out of the line of fire. I got up from the barstool
and closed the distance between us, fury clouding my senses.
“You’re a hypocritical liar,” I snarled, pointing my finger
at him. “I found the emails with your legal team.” My father
tried to reach for me, but I dodged his touch.
“It’s not what you think,” he said, and I saw how
conflicted he was.
“So you didn’t hide from me that you’re dying, that the
house, the securities were transferred to me, that this holiday
was just a way to say goodbye?” My voice had turned into a
desperate screech and my father flinched. I wanted him to
explain himself, to say the emails were fake, but nothing came
out of his mouth. Instead, Nikolai stepped to his side.
“Sien—,” he began placatingly, but I interrupted him.
“Don’t you interfere,” I shouted at him. “You are the
biggest liar of all!” Nikolai clenched his jaw, his expression
tense. “I expected more from you; you brazenly lied to my
face even though I poured my heart out to you.” I could no
longer contain my anger and clenched my hands into fists.
Meanwhile, my father looked at him, stunned, but was smart
enough not to say anything.
 “I had no choice,” he said, his expression pleading.
Apparently, he wanted to say much more, but it was too late. I
had given him so many opportunities to tell me the truth, to
warn me. Instead, he had only played with me, slept with me
only to break my heart.
“I wanted to spare you the pain,” my father breathed and
tears gathered in his eyes. As they did in mine. Tears of
betrayal, heartbreak and a future we would never have.
“Spare me the pain? You were the person who caused me
pain for 23 agonising years. You were the person who sent me
into exile. Then you wanted to reconcile, only to leave me
again. You are a narcissistic heap of misery.” I slapped the
countertop with my palm so hard that the glass of water shook.
My father flinched as if it had been his face. “I’m tired of
being sweet and nice, I’m tired of excusing your behaviour
and I’m tired of being your daughter,” I finally shouted.
Nikolai came up to me and grabbed me by the shoulders to
calm me down, but I pushed him away with all my might. He
looked me in the eye and knew at that moment that it was all
over, that I took back every word, every kiss. And I saw him
shatter.
“When were you going to tell me? On your deathbed?” I
looked back and forth between them, but neither said anything.
“Answer me,” I finally snarled, and my father wiped his wet
cheeks.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Someday, I’m sure.” I
scoffed.
“And you—“ I turned to Nikolai. “—you betrayed me.” He
shook his head, helplessness in his eyes. “If there had been
even a shred of humanity in you, you would’ve confessed
everything to me. I’m not as emotionless as you; I feel,
strongly even.” His pleading look asked me to reconsider my
words, but I couldn’t. Years of pent-up frustration made me
explode. I wanted them to feel the same way I did. Miserable.
“Your little plan has ruined everything. If I’d known you
were going to…die,” I blurted out between gritted teeth, “I
would have—“
 “You would have what?” my father interrupted me, having
found his voice again. “You would have behaved differently. I
wanted us to find each other because you wanted it, not
because you felt obligated. I wanted to leave knowing that—“
He staggered to the side and Nikolai was immediately there.
“I think you should go to bed and rest,” he whispered, but
my father shook his head and turned his attention back to me.
“I wanted to leave knowing you don’t see me as a
monster.” My fingernails dug into my palm and I clenched my
jaw so hard it hurt. “I wanted you to get to know me.”
A stream of tears ran down my cheek, a lump in my throat
that I couldn’t swallow.
“What good is it for me to know you if you are dead? Did
you even fight?” I snarled. “Or do you want to see Mother
again so badly that you’ll sacrifice my sanity for it?” My
father shook his head. “I didn’t choose it. I came here to take
part in a clinical trial and—“
That was all he could get out before he fainted.
Then everything happened so quickly. Nikolai, bending
over my father. Nikolai, calling the ambulance. Nikolai,
pressing clothes into my hands. Loud sirens. Blue lights. Three
paramedics. No, four. Kidney cancer. Metastases. My father
lying on a stretcher. He wasn’t breathing. Someone shaking
my shoulders. He wasn’t breathing.
“Sienna?” He wasn’t breathing. “She’s in shock.”
He wasn’t breathing.
 35

I sat on a rickety chair and looked at my sleeping father in

the hospital bed, his chest rising and falling steadily. Not
dead, he was not dead. Not yet.
The warm light illuminated only a part of the room, so I
was almost completely veiled by shadows. My father had
barely moved in the last three hours and if the two nurses
hadn’t assured me five times that he was stable, I would have
gone crazy.
The chief physician had told me about my father’s
condition. Very aggressive kidney cancer that had already
spread. There was nothing more they could do for him; the
cancer had been diagnosed too late.
I had asked him if he couldn’t get a donor kidney and the
doctor had shaken his head. ‘His friend was willing to donate a
kidney, but they were not compatible, I was told’. I thanked
him and went back to my father’s room. Nikolai was nowhere
to be seen. Maybe he wasn’t allowed to come here.
Good. I didn’t want to see him, I didn’t want to hear his
voice. The man I had shared everything with had sworn that he
would tell me if there was anything wrong with my father. He
had looked me in the eye and lied without hesitation.

I HAD DOZED OFF , and only when the nurse nudged me did I
startle out of the darkness. My spine cracked as I straightened
up and stretched. On second glance, I saw my father had his
eyes open and was watching me. With heavy steps, I went to
his bedside and looked down at him.
“How are you feeling?” I asked hesitantly. My yelling was
still ringing in my ears and I tried to shake off the image of his
crying face. Unsuccessfully.
“Like shit,” my father replied in a hoarse voice, and took a
few sips of water. Defeat was reflected in his eyes and I
regretted ever having opened my mouth.
“I’m so—“ I began, but he cut me off, taking my hand in
his.
“You don’t have to apologise for anything. This is all my
fault.” I squeezed his hand and turned my face in another
direction, couldn’t bear to see him like that. He looked so
weak, so fragile, and I had only made it worse.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked between gritted
teeth and the mattress shifted.
“Because I was scared. If I had said it out loud, I would
also have had to admit that I was leaving you behind. And
you’ve been alone for too long.” I tried to swallow, but my
mouth felt dry as dust.
“I could have given you a kidney,” I finally said and my
father shook his head.
“Yes, you would have. You would have fought for it, and if
I had become desperate enough, I would have accepted your
offer.” I put my lower lip between my teeth to stop it from
trembling. “But I didn’t want your kidney.”
My eyes shot in his direction. “Why not?” My father gave
me a strained smile.
“Because I want you to have a normal life. Besides, things
weren’t looking good for me and the risk was too high.” He
took a deep breath. “And then the cancer spread and I lived on
borrowed time.”
Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes.
 “I’ve already taken too much from you. It should end
somewhere, don’t you think?” he finally asked, and I held his
gaze.
“Not when it’s a matter of life and death.” I wouldn’t have
hesitated for a second if he had asked me. He was my father,
after all.
“That’s where you’re wrong. You’re young, you have your
whole life ahead of you. And I’ve accepted the fact that I’m
going to die. I’m not afraid.” I wondered how he managed to
sound so calm.
“But I’m scared,” I whispered, my voice shaky. “I’m afraid
of losing you.” He brought the back of my hand to his lips and
kissed it gently.
“Oh, Si. But you never had me in the first place. I wasn’t
there; I was a stranger.” Now it was my turn to shake my head.
“That’s not true.” My father nodded, and we both knew he
was right.
I wiped my cheeks but couldn’t stop the tears. I was angry
and confused and so sad that every breath hurt.
“I love you, dad,” I finally whispered, not sure if he had
heard me at all. But it was the truth. Despite all the heartache,
the lies, the loneliness, I couldn’t help but love him. It wasn’t
logical, but feelings weren’t logical and neither were the
people who felt them.
“I’d prefer you didn’t,” he said, the saddest smile in the
world on his lips. I’d prefer I didn’t, too. It would make things
so much easier; the inevitable goodbye.

T HE NURSE KNOCKED QUIETLY on the door and asked me to

come with her. With narrowed eyes, I followed her through a
bright hallway, flyers of rehab groups paired with support
groups and family counselling to the left and right. Everything
was done in white and cream tones, the chrome equipment
modern and shiny. Now and then doctors or patients scurried
through the hallways, but otherwise, it was dead quiet. Neither
screams nor conversations echoed from the neighbouring
rooms. Even the nurses were talking quietly and I wondered
how late it was.
We stopped at a simple wooden door, no nameplate on. I
gave her a questioning look, and she told me in broken English
to please wait inside.
Sighing, I did as she told me and entered. The hospital
room was empty and sterile with a fine smell of disinfectant in
the air.
A short time later, the door opened and I would have
rushed out again if Nikolai hadn’t blocked my way.
“Please, Sienna, just listen to me for five minutes,” he
begged. I crossed my arms and stood still, but couldn’t look
him in the eye. “I’m sorry. Truly. I never meant to hurt you.” I
scoffed.
“But you did. You kept from me that my father was dying.
What greater betrayal is there?” Anger clouded my senses, and
I had to summon all my willpower not to scream.
“Please understand, I had to swear to him to not say a
word. That was before—“ My gaze turned to him.
“Before what? Before you fucked me?” I snarled, and he
shook his head in disbelief.
“Before I met you. If I had known you, I would never have
agreed to keep his secret. But he’s my best friend, and what
asshole would deny a dying man such a wish?”
“So the ticket to honesty is a pretty face and two or three
kind words? When would you have confessed everything to
me? Just before my father would have taken his last breath?”
Nikolai took a step towards me, wanting to calm me down, but
I raised my hands and he stopped.
“You are the first man I have ever shared so much with. I
have bared my soul to you. Wasn’t that worth anything?” I
could feel the tears stinging in the corners of my eyes, but
didn’t want to cry in front of him. Didn’t want to look weak.
 “I failed you. I know I fucked up, but please believe me
when I say it was all real. It was never about a pretty face and
two or three kind words.” He took a deep breath. “You and me
—we are one. Two different vessels. Interwoven souls, the
same heartbeat.” I had never seen him so desperate, so
vulnerable, and I almost ran into his arms, swearing to him
that everything would be all right. But it wouldn’t. I hadn’t
made a fuss about what it looked like inside me; I had always
been honest with him. Was it so hard to demand the same
honesty?
“What do you want from me, Nikolai?” I finally asked
because I didn’t know what to say. He shook his head and for a
moment, it looked as if he had tears in his eyes.
“Everything,” Nikolai finally breathed. “I want you to
forgive me. I need your forgiveness. I want you not to hate
me.” A tear rolled down my cheek, and I made no effort to
wipe it away. No, I didn’t hate him. Probably never could. But
the pain was too deep. The only thing I could think of was
how I would have used the time with my father if I had known
that we didn’t have much of it.
“Because I—“ He faltered, unable to get the words out.
“Because you what?” I huffed. “Because you feel guilty? I
will, too. For the rest of my life. I’m going to be an orphan,
Nikolai, do you realise that? I’m going to be alone.” My whole
body shook and my heart broke with every word.
“You don’t have to be alone, Sienna. Not when here.” He
came closer and took my face between his ice-cold hands. “Let
me take care of you, please,” he begged, and I tried to turn my
head away, but he didn’t let go.
“I believed that I didn’t have to be alone anymore, too, that
you would be there.” A desperate laugh came from my lips.
“For a moment, I even believed there was more between us.”
“There is, believe me, Sunshine. I’ve never felt as much
for anyone as I do for you.” How I would have loved to say me
too, but I couldn’t get the words out. Not when there was so
much standing between us.
 “You should go,” I said soberly. Nikolai looked me in the
eye and saw that I was serious. His gaze begged me to take
back the words, to let him stay.
When I didn’t, he took his hands off me and I could have
sworn his lip quivered before looking down.
“Can I at least say goodbye to Chris?” he asked hoarsely,
and I tried to swallow the lump in my throat.
“Do that,” I replied, trying to keep my composure as best I
could. But inside me, a storm raged that threatened to
suffocate my whole being.
I wanted to pass him, but at the last moment, he caught me
by the upper arm.
“Please…” he pleaded. I tore my arm free and walked
away without looking back. Because if I had looked back, I
would have given in. No, the kind, compassionate Sienna had
died in front of that laptop.
All I felt now was crushing emptiness.
36
 NIKOLAI

I had never felt more miserable.

With every inch Sienna moved away from me,
something new broke inside me. Something I had not known
even existed.
I had never cried over a woman, but when she walked out
of that room, my tears fell for the first time. And it was my
fault. I had lied to her about something so profound and it was
unforgivable. I knew it. If I were in her place, I wouldn’t have
forgiven myself, either.
Only when I was sure that Sienna was long gone did I head
for my best friend—the man I wasn’t allowed be angry with
because he was sick. Oh, but inside me, a storm raged.
The hallways felt cold, too cold. Or was that my shivering
body? I didn’t know.
The only thing I did know was that I had let my girl go,
even though every fibre in my body was fighting against it.
She was alone, and I knew only too well how it felt. That’s
why I wanted to comfort her, wanted to take care of her, but
she had pushed me away and I had no choice but to watch her
from afar and wish I had done something differently.
The last weeks with her had changed me, at least I hoped
so. And I knew they had changed her, too. Sienna had ripped
my very soul apart just to weave it back together with the
essence of hers. And now I had to carry the scars of her
absence etched upon my heart. But I didn’t mind. At least I
would have something of hers with me forever.
 Two nurses came up to me and pointed in the right
direction. One turn later, I was already standing in front of
Chris’ door, palms sweaty. To be honest, I didn’t know what to
say. My friend was no fool. He had certainly already drawn his
conclusions and interpreted our argument from a few hours
ago.
I took a deep breath and stepped into the room, the light
dim. Chris sat upright, staring at his phone. I would have liked
to smack him. He certainly wasn’t playing a game, but
working as if it were just another evening of many.
“Nikolai,” he said dryly as I approached his bed. I hoped
my face would not show what had happened just a few
minutes ago, what was really going on inside me. “You have
some nerve coming here.” I remained silent, waiting for the
rest before defending myself. If Christopher wanted to hear
that I was sorry, I had to disappoint him. I didn’t regret a
single second I had spent with Sienna.
“How long did you sneak around with my daughter?” he
finally asked, his disappointed gaze on me.
I sighed. Why should I lie? It would be an insult to deny
Sienna. “Not for long,” I replied. “But the attraction had been
there for a while.” Fury burned in his eyes, but he knew better
than to get too upset. In his state, it could turn fatal.
“I’ve noticed you’ve changed. I just didn’t figure it was
because you were fucking my daughter,” he snarled and I
clenched my hands into fists. If he was about to insult Si, I
would go for his throat. Kidney cancer or not.
Maybe he saw the warning in my eyes, because he
remained silent.
“It was more than that,” I replied, even though it wasn’t his
business. Still, I felt the need to make it clear that it was never
just about sex. It had always been more, this connection…
“I don’t care. Just stay away from her and there won’t be
any problems.” I didn’t like Christopher’s tone at all. Was he
threatening me? I almost laughed.
 “And if I don’t stay away from her?” He didn’t need to
know that Sienna had turned her back on me for good.
“Then I’ll kill you,” Chris replied dryly, and I felt the
blood drain from my face. I had never expected that he, of all
people, would ever say such a thing to me. Not after
everything that had happened. Was it just his dented pride
talking, or was he really concerned about the wellbeing of his
daughter?
“Do what you must,” I replied in the same tone.
Analytical, distant. “But my soul will haunt her for the rest of
her life.” Chris scoffed and turned his face away.
“Go now.” There was a strange determination in his voice,
and I knew he meant it. Despite all his hurtful words, I wanted
to placate him. This wouldn’t be the end of our friendship. It
couldn’t.
“We are closer than brothers. You can’t just send me away
like this.” I tried to breathe slowly and evenly, not wanting to
show him how hard his cruelty hit me.
“I can and I will,” he said dismissively. I wanted to take a
step towards him, wanted to grab him by the shoulders and
shake him hard to get the nonsense out of his head, but
stopped at the last moment.
“Chris…” I breathed. He couldn’t possibly be serious.
When the going got tough, you put such conflicts aside, didn’t
you?
“I’ll say it one last time: I don’t want to see you again,”
my friend hissed, voice raised.
“But you will die! Don’t push me away,” I pleaded. His
deathly gaze bored into mine and I knew at that moment that I
had lost him. Just as I had lost my Sunshine that night.
Defeated, I started to retreat, my steps heavy and slow,
giving him time to change his mind. The decades of friendship
couldn’t be erased so easily, could they?
But even when I stopped in the doorway, he remained
silent. One last time I turned to my best friend, my only friend,
and spoke my last words.
 “It doesn’t matter if you force me to leave today. If you
call, I will come. Remember that.” I took a deep breath. “I
love you.” And I knew I should have said those three words to
someone else today, too. But I had been a coward.
37
 TWO WEEKS LATER

A few days had passed since we had arrived back home in

England. On doctor’s orders, my father had to get some
rest at the hospital before he could step on the plane and
we had taken his advice. During this time, I had been
commuting between the villa and the hospital as if I were
working there. Sometimes, I was allowed to help the cleaning
ladies with small tasks, so that the hours didn’t feel like an
eternity. That had been the only silver lining of my day and
distracted me from the pain in my chest. Pain over Nikolai’s
absence, pain over the betrayal, pain over my father’s
condition.
Some days, I cried myself to sleep, while others, I couldn’t
sleep a wink.

O NE AFTERNOON , I couldn’t stand being in the house anymore

and my father urged me to visit the animal shelter for a few
hours to help them. Selfish as I was, I hadn’t given a thought
to their situation in the last couple of weeks and I felt guilty
for not calling to check on them.
Reluctantly, I followed his advice and took the shortest
route there, the air cool and the clouds grey. Nothing had
changed and yet everything seemed different. Maybe it was
just the weight on my chest that accompanied me every
waking hour.
 My eyes almost fell out of their sockets as I pulled up into
the driveway of the shelter. The façade had been repainted,
and the lawn gleamed a rich green. Even the rickety door and
the leaky windows had been replaced and a new, large sign
with the shelter’s name adorned the entrance.
Either a miracle had happened, or the owner had won the
lottery, otherwise, I couldn’t imagine how they had done it.
I entered with hurried steps, and for a moment, I thought I
had got the address wrong. The broken furniture had been
replaced, and the walls were painted a friendly pastel yellow.
Unbelievable. I peeked into the nearest room, where the
animals were receiving emergency care, and saw that
equipment and instruments had been replaced with new, shiny
ones.
Everything was modern and clean, even in the next room
and the one after that. Whoever had paid for all this was a
saint and I hoped the staff had kissed this person’s feet. God
knows how many animals they had saved from the street or
even from death. A smile spread across my face as I saw many
new staff members scurrying through the hallways. They
didn’t recognise me, which was a good sign. It meant that they
had only recently started working here.
I pushed my way to the staff room, but before I could
enter, a young woman, barely older than me, stopped me.
“You’re not allowed in there. The room is for workers
only,” the blonde said in a friendly but firm voice.
“Oh, yeah right, you don’t know me.” I dug my volunteer
ID out of my pocket and held it up to her face. “I’m a
volunteer. See?” Her mouth dropped open and revealed a
silver tongue piercing. I almost laughed at the look on her face
and put the card away.
“Are you okay?” I asked, almost worried.
“You-you’re Sienna Mayfield?” she stammered, and I
narrowed my eyes. What was going on here?
“The one and only,” I quipped, though I didn’t feel like
joking. “Is there a problem? I should talk to Clara.” Maybe she
could explain to me what all this was about. Before I could
finish the thought, she wrapped her arms around me as if I
were her long-lost sister. Overwhelmed by her outburst of
feelings, I just let her embrace me, my arms hanging limply on
each side.
At that moment, Clara came around the corner and I
exhaled in relief. But instead of helping me out of this
woman’s clutches, she followed suit.
“I was only away for a few weeks. No need for—“ Finally
they let go of me and I straightened my shirt.
“Oh, Sienna, I’ve been waiting for the day you’d come
back,” she exclaimed, actual tears in her eyes. I had never seen
Clara so emotional. Actually, I had never seen her emotional at
all.
“Can someone explain to me what is going on? And what
happened to the shelter?” I made a hand motion around the
hallway.
Both looked at me as if I had grown a second head, which
only made me more nervous.
“Are you kidding us, Sienna?” the new one asked, and
Clara gave her a warning look.
“Have you forgotten that you donated a hundred thousand
pounds to us and paid our bills for the next ten years?” My
mouth dropped open, and I had to brace myself on the edge of
a table to keep from sinking to the floor. A hundred thousand
pounds? There must have been a misunderstanding. I didn’t
have even the smallest fraction of that in my bank account.
How could I have sent them so much money?
Clara studied my shocked expression, and I saw the wheels
turning in her head.
“I-I didn’t donate anything.” My chest suddenly felt way
too tight and I could hardly breathe. “You must have messed
something up.” The sudden barking of dogs in the distance
made me flinch, and Clara put her hand on my shoulder.
“Follow me,” she prompted, and I walked on shaky legs
after her into the office. Even the old computer from the 2000s
had been replaced by a new model.
Clara searched through a folder while Jenny, as I could
now read on her name tag, kept stealing sheepish glances at
me.
“Here,” she finally said and pulled out a few documents,
including the transaction confirmation of the prepaid
electricity bill, water bill, and the pet food bill. Trembling, I
read through it all, and then a second time to be sure. “You
forgot the fine print,” Jenny added, pointing to a paragraph on
the next page. The donor, certainly not me, pledged to make
another donation after ten years. I thought I was going to faint
and had to sit down while Clara gave me something to drink.
“It can’t be,” I whispered, more to myself, and the two
women looked at me with a mix of concern and confusion.
“The donation came from a charity organisation with your
name,” Clara told me with a frown. “Look, Sienna Mayfield.”
I gave them the documents back and massaged my temples.
“When was the donation transferred?” I finally asked.
Clara thought for a moment. “One, two weeks after we last
saw each other, why?” Slowly but surely, I was suspecting that
a certain 6’ 6” man with dark hair, hazel eyes and too much
money to count had something to do with this. But could it
really be possible that Nikolai had invested so much? He
didn’t come across as the biggest animal lover, so he certainly
hadn’t done it out of charity. In fact, he was making fun of my
compassion.
“Well, I certainly didn’t set up an organisation,” I said,
defeated. Nikolai had surely had enough ways to make that
happen. I shook my head. The mere thought of his name
pained me, and I didn’t know how to stop it. Would this ever
go away?
“Very suspicious,” Jenny cut in. “But you don’t look a gift
horse in the mouth. If I were you, I wouldn’t blurt it out so
loudly that there’s something not quite right going on.” She
had a point. Some of the donation had already been spent, and
if it was really Nikolai who had set the whole thing up, then he
certainly didn’t miss the money. Still, I couldn’t avoid
thanking him for it. Even if it was only an email.
With a loud sigh, I stood up, my legs still like jelly.
“I’ll deal with it later. Let’s get to work.” Before I could
take a step, Clara stopped me with a scolding expression.
“You’re certainly not going anywhere except back to bed.
Have you even looked in the mirror? One can see your dark
circles from London.” I rubbed my face. As much as I hated to
admit it, she was right. The last few days had been a nightmare
and you could tell by my face. My skin was pale, my lips
chapped and my hair dull. But I desperately needed a little
distraction, at least for a few hours. I was certain that I would
get a better sleep afterwards.
“I won’t stay that long, okay?” The women exchanged a
glance and eventually, Clara nodded.
“Two hours. Take it or leave it.” With a forced smile, I
nodded and left the room, my thoughts still on Nikolai.

T WO HOURS TURNED INTO FOUR , and that was only because I

had hidden from Clara in the storage room.
The sun was about to set, and I took the long route back
home, my legs aching. It was nothing personal, but the
suffocating atmosphere at home was simply unbearable. My
father was in his own world, zoning out most of the time, and
when he talked to me, I could tell that something was
upsetting him. I had only been too much of a coward to
approach him about it.
Two teenagers jumped in front of my car and I hit the
brake so abruptly that the seatbelt dug into my skin. Shit.
With trembling hands, I rolled down the window, and they
looked at me with fear in their eyes. Was I that scary looking?
“For fuck’s sake, what’s wrong with you?” I shouted.
“There’s no crossing here.” They tried to apologise, but I paid
them no mind. Instead, I gripped the steering wheel tighter and
took a deep breath.
Anger pumped through my veins as I drove away with
squealing tyres, music cranked up so I couldn’t hear my
thoughts.
Half an hour later, I stepped out of the car and crossed the
driveway. It had become chilly in the last few days. Or maybe
I was just imagining it, as I rubbed my upper arms to get rid of
the goosebumps.
“There you are,” my father mumbled from the kitchen
when he saw me. “Are you as hungry as I am?” I put down my
keys and bag. His face was sunken, and in some places, his
hair was already visibly thinning.
“Yes,” I lied and went off to heat some soup from
yesterday. “Why don’t you go and put on a movie? I’ll be right
there.” My father looked at me for a moment and tapped his
fingers on the countertop, his nails brittle.
Eventually, he nodded and left me alone so I could take a
breath.
I took the soup out of the fridge and put it on the cooker,
too tired to make something fresh. Lost in thought, I stirred,
my face fixed on the shiny tiles in front of me. No matter how
much I tried to block it out, Nikolai’s face kept appearing
before my eyes. I saw him in every shadow, in every
reflection, heard him in every whisper of those around me.
Sometimes, I just wished I could close my eyes forever,
but even then, I wouldn’t find peace because he had burned
himself deep into my brain. Pathetic.
“Are you coming?” my father shouted from the living
room and I wiped the tear from my cheek. There was no point
in crying. Crying would not turn back time. A time when
Nikolai could still tell me the truth.
With a bowl of soup and some bread, I went to my father.
He was nestled in a blanket, a bed desk set up over his lap.
That way, he could eat while watching TV and we didn’t have
to eat in awkward silence at the table.
 “Thank you, Si,” he said in a tired voice. “But where’s
yours?” My father took the first bite and turned the TV up
louder.
“I’ve already eaten a bit in the kitchen.” He just nodded,
his eyes glued to the screen. Maybe he knew it was a lie, that I
had barely eaten for days and he just didn’t care. Or maybe he
was so self-absorbed that he hadn’t noticed.
I waited until he had finished his meal to fluff his pillows
and take the empty bowl to the kitchen.
“Good night,” I murmured as I passed, but he had already
fallen asleep.
S UBJECT : D ONATION

M ESSAGE :
Dear Mr Hale,
Thank you for your generous donation. The animals and
the volunteers were more than happy about it. You saved lives.

A LL THE BEST ,

S ENT ON M ONDAY , 00:31

 38

T he supermarket was crowded as I tried to push my

trolley through the aisles. It was so loud that my ears
hurt and the annoying music made my temples throb.
A mother was standing in front of the frozen goods while
her baby was screaming at the top of its lungs. But that seemed
to affect her very little. In the past, I would have offered to
watch the pram while she did her shopping, but nowadays I
didn’t have the nerve for such things.
My days consisted mainly of shopping, cooking and
looking after my father. In comparison, the few hours at the
animal shelter seemed like a visit to the spa. But they needed
me less and less now that they had full-time employees, and it
had happened more than once that Clara had sent me home
because I was supposedly just standing in the way.
Back then, I had been angry, but now I didn’t…care. I
didn’t care for most things anymore. And it felt good.
My phone rang as I walked to the trolley with my hands
full. I had barely got it through the aisle and eventually, I had
given up on pushing it further. The annoying sound died away,
only to start again. I clutched the boxes in one hand while
pulling the phone out of my pocket. Without looking at the
number, I picked it up.
“What?” I hissed a little too loudly and a few heads turned
in my direction. There was a rustling sound at the other end.
“Oh, hello, dear,” Mrs Martinez said, a little irritated. I
cleared my throat and continued walking. “How are you? I
saw you were back in town.” Of course, she hadn’t called to
make small talk with me. She needed something, like always.
“Everything’s fine,” I replied. “And yes, we’ve been back
for a while now.” I tapped my foot impatiently on the
linoleum.
“That’s great. What I wanted to ask you is…could you
maybe come over later and help me with the Wi-Fi? I think it’s
not working again and the girl next door never has time.” I let
out an annoyed sigh. No wonder she never had time. I would
pretend to be away, too, if this woman would be my
neighbour.
“I’ve made you a detailed list. Either find an optician or
contact your provider,” I replied between gritted teeth. Didn’t I
deserve five minutes of peace and quiet?
“But you always do it for me. I—“ Before she could say
anything else, I hung up. I was tired of working as her
personal assistant and always being on call.
A young guy was staring at me; surely he had overheard
the conversation.
“Do you have a problem?” I snarled at him and he averted
his gaze, pretending I hadn’t just meant him.
Annoyed, I went to the checkout and put my things on the
conveyor belt.
A kid behind me was trying to reach for sweets. His father
had told him dozens of times to stop, but his boy wouldn’t
listen. He stomped and cried and soon I couldn’t keep my
mouth shut.
“Hey, Satan,” I hissed quietly so only he could hear.
“Candy makes your teeth fall out. And the more you scream,
the less you live, got it?” He stared at me with wide eyes, his
mouth open in shock. I had done his parents a favour, I
thought to myself. The kid stopped screaming, just sniffled
some more. That’s a start.
I looked back again, and he quickly hid behind his father,
who was clearing his own groceries out of the trolley.
 Finally, it was my turn. I paid with my father’s card and
left the supermarket fully packed. The bags cut into my flesh,
but I kept going. Even when an older man offered to help me, I
refused. The longer it took me to get to the car, the later I
would get home, I thought, and slowed my pace.

“I T SMELLS DELICIOUS ,” my father said as he entered the

kitchen, his stride slow. I had spent the whole damn evening
cooking the dish he had picked out a few days ago. It’s your
fault for offering it, though, I scolded myself as sweat trickled
down my forehead. I wiped it off with my sleeve and took the
baked potatoes out of the oven. I poked them with a long
wooden stick to see if they were done. Perfect.
“It’ll be ready in a minute,” I replied, hunched over the
pan, and he nodded. Not that he offered to help me, he never
did. But even if he had, I wouldn’t have accepted it. He should
rest. Still, the mere question would have been nice.
“Can you put more salt in this time?” he asked, pointing to
the beef. I sighed in annoyance.
“No. Too much salt is unhealthy.” My father scoffed.
“As if I need to worry about that anymore.” Sarcasm
dripped from his bitter words. “Now do as I say and put more
salt in it,” he hissed, and I winced at his tone.
When my father realised how he had spoken to me, he
reached out to comfort me, but I backed away.
Lately, his temper had been getting the better of him, I
realised. Could I blame him, though? I probably would have
been the same; if I wasn’t already.
“Just go and I’ll bring it to you,” I finally said, and he did
as I told him.
A few minutes later, I placed the steaming plate in front of
him, and he wolfed down every bite. I observed him for a
while as he watched the soccer match, sometimes nodding
contentedly.
 He hadn’t always been so downcast. There were good
days, too. Sometimes he had played songs for me on his little
ukulele and sang along. Not very well, though, but it had
cheered me up. I hadn’t laughed in a long time and when he
had caught me doing so, his lip had quivered.
I snapped myself out of my thoughts and noticed that he
had finished eating. I was about to get up to take the plate and
cutlery away, but he stopped me.
“Stay with me a little longer. We can watch one of your
reality shows if you like.” Fine. Sighing, I put his plate on the
coffee table and snuggled against his shoulder while he
covered me with his blanket. My father gave me a little kiss on
the forehead before handing me the remote. “I love you, Si.
You know that, right?” If it made him happy that I believed
him, it was fine with me.
“I know,” I eventually said and switched to my show.
Three days later, I was sitting in front of my laptop at my
desk, my room completely bathed in black.
I hadn’t checked my emails since I messaged Nikolai
through his business address for fear he would have
responded. It was childish of me, so at two in the morning I
had set my mind on catching up. What could possibly happen?
My heart was already broken, barely beating. At night, when I
was all alone and only I could judge myself, I wished for him
to come back, dreamt of our carefree time. I imagined us
dancing on the beach; him twirling me around and then pulling
me back to his chest. I imagined us falling asleep and waking
up together, him running his fingers through my hair and
telling me everything would be okay. And the next minute, I
hated myself for these foolish thoughts. They brought me
nothing but pain.
Maybe I am a masochist, I thought to myself as I opened
my emails. Dozens of messages popped up, but before I could
open any of them, my door flew open. My father came rushing
in wearing his old pyjamas, his face even paler than usual,
hands shaking.
 I was immediately on alert, my head clearer than the last
time.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as I put on sweatpants and
packed my bag in record time. But before my father could say
anything, he fell to the floor.

I WAITED OUTSIDE while my father was examined for the last

time. When he had regained consciousness, he had told the
doctors that there was quite a lot of blood in his urine and that
was why he had been in such a panic. The agitation had made
him faint, and they had to come and carry him out of the house
with a stretcher because I couldn’t just carry him and lift him
into my car.
To be honest, I would have liked to faint myself just so I
could lie in one of their beds for a few hours.
“Ms Mayfield?” a deep voice sounded to my right, and I
looked up. A young doctor was standing next to me, looking at
me with concern.
“How is he?” I asked, straightening up. I was all too aware
of how pathetic I must have looked to the others. My T-shirt
was unwashed, my hair greasy. I was also sure that I must
have smelled of floor cleaner because I had accidentally
stepped on it yesterday.
He cleared his throat. “He’s been better. I wanted to talk to
you in private. Follow me.” I walked behind him into a small
separate room and it was almost as if I had been punched in
the face. Everything reminded me of the night I had last seen
Nikolai to the point where even breathing was painful.
“Would you like to sit down?” He pointed to a chair
behind me, but I shook my head. He should just spit it out and
dismiss me already. “All right. You certainly know about your
father’s poor condition and I’m sorry to tell you this, but you
shouldn’t have high hopes of spending Christmas with him.” I
bit my lower lip and looked in another direction. I was aware
that things were getting worse, but hearing it out of his mouth
made the whole thing somehow…real.
“Did you bring me here just to tell me that?” I hissed, and
he crossed his arms.
“No. I brought you here to advise you to take better care of
your father.” My gaze shot in his direction and my mouth
dropped open. Was he blaming me for my father’s state?
“I’ll take care of him as best I can.” I would have loved to
claw his eyes out, to make a scene, but my throat was way too
tight and I felt helpless.
“Then your best is not good enough,” he replied harshly.
“You should seriously consider working with a caregiver. A
professional one, of course. It seems you are not up to the
job.” Arrogantly, the doctor looked down at me, at my clothes
and against my will, I wrapped my arms around myself.
“We’ll consider it,” I finally said, my voice rough from the
dry air. The doctor nodded and wrote something on his
clipboard.
“Good luck.” He handed me a prescription with a rather
long list of medicines. I was about to walk out the door when
he addressed me one last time. “And Ms Mayfield? Pay more
attention to your appearance. And eat more.”
I would have gone for his throat if I hadn’t been so
extremely exhausted. Instead of uttering the obscenities that
were running through my head, I simply turned my back on
him and walked away.
In the early morning hours, I brought my father home.
Everything was quiet; even the birds had lost their voices.
Just like me. The pressure threatened to crush me and I felt so
utterly alone.
And in a weak moment, I wished Nikolai was there.
SEPTEMBER
OCTOBER
 39

M y father was a ghost, and I was his shadow. I followed

him wherever he went, watching over him like a
mother over her child.
He had rejected my idea of hiring a caregiver and I had
respected his will. But that has made my life all the harder.
Some days, he was so weak that I had to help him bathe
and feed him. He had apologised over and over again, and my
response was always a nod.
I nodded a lot lately because I rarely had anything to say.
Before, when the world was still warm, I had a lot to say.
But the world was no longer warm.
Shaking, I stepped out of the shower and counted my ribs
in the mirror. Every day they seemed to stand out more, and
that scared me, so I didn’t like looking at my reflection any
more.
I quickly wrapped a towel around my body and blow-dried
my hair. It was starting to fall out from the stress, so I usually
wore it in a braid. That way, it was less noticeable.
“Sienna,” my father’s voice rang out, and I quickly put on
some clothes and headed downstairs. Lunch should have been
ready by now, but I had gone to bed so late last night that I
hadn’t heard my alarm clock.
“Wait, I’ll make us something to eat,” I said to my father
as he searched the fridge.
 Finally, he gave me room so I could get out the leftovers
from yesterday. “You can wait in the living room.” He didn’t
budge, and I sighed. Sometimes my father was overcome with
an urgent need to help me, but mostly he just stood in the way.
When he saw I wasn’t giving him a chore, he walked away
with his head down and I could take a breath.
That happened extremely rarely in the last few days and I
was grateful for every second I could be by myself.
Even at night, it had turned into a rare treat, as I would
visit his room every couple of hours to see if he was still
breathing.
The macabre thing, however, was that with each step, I had
resigned myself to the possibility that my father might be lying
dead in his bed.
It was hard to describe, but there was this emptiness inside
me I could never quite fill and in my worst hours, I just
wanted it all to be over.
“Are you coming?” my father asked, snapping me out of
my thoughts.
I hurried into the living room along with his food. When
he asked me why I had brought nothing for myself, I said that
I wasn’t hungry.
But that was only partially true. The portion from
yesterday was only enough for one person and I didn’t have
the energy to cook more.
“Why don’t you invite your girlfriends over? You haven’t
seen each other for so long.” I shook my head.
Blair and Ramona had tried to contact me several times
and had stopped by dozens of times. Usually at the most
inconvenient moments. The truth was, I was ashamed.
Ashamed of how I looked, how my body had changed. I was
also ashamed of my temper, that I no longer had any patience,
that I was tired. But most of all, I was ashamed that I had
pushed them away, even though they were the closest thing I
had to sisters.
 “Maybe tomorrow,” I replied, as I always did. And he
knew I was lying.
“Come on, let me tell you a story about your mom from
when we were kids.” Lately, he found it ever easier to talk
about her. Maybe because he knew he would see her again
soon.
I always listened spellbound and a few days ago, I had
even found the old cassettes he had talked about. We had
watched some and for the first time in weeks, I had smiled.
But now the cassettes were back in their boxes, so all that was
left was for my father to tell me the stories. I didn’t know if
some of them were just made up, but I sat by his side every
time and listened to his words. How much longer would I get
to hear his voice?

I SAT on the porch swing and swayed back and forth while
eating some dry crackers. Sometimes, when I felt alone, I
thought of Nikolai and wondered if he felt the same way, if he
was also lonely, ate enough, drank enough.
I hadn’t touched my emails since that night and I decided it
was better that way. Because if he had written to me, I would
have written him back. And then, I would have begged him to
come back to me.
The other day, I had another panic attack and the only
thing I thought of was calling Nikolai so that his voice could
calm me down. I hadn’t done it, of course, but it would still
have been nice to hear him, his sarcastic words or stupid
remarks. Even if it was only for a few seconds.
No, it was good that he was gone, that he was moving on
with his life. Nikolai was certainly happy; I strongly believed
that. My name was probably just a faint echo in his memory,
and that was fine.
Still, I wondered what he would think of me now; if he
would recognise me. Probably not. I didn’t recognise myself
sometimes.
40
 NIKOLAI

I didn’t know how much I had drunk that night. The only
thing I knew was that my heart was torn into a thousand
pieces just thinking about Sienna. My Sunshine was all
alone, just like me. I sensed that. Or maybe it was just the
alcohol talking.
After the hundredth whiskey, I got used to the taste, and
after the two hundredth, I started to like it.
I had hated my father since childhood and in the end, I had
become just as pathetic as he was. Irony of fate. I almost
laughed as I got up from my desk only to go to the nearby
couch, where I slept more often than in my bed.
Here in my study, no one bothered me. Here, I could sink
into self-pity and drink until I thought I could hear her voice.
I kicked off my shoes and lay down, the leather too cold on
my skin. My thoughts drifted into dark places and I squeezed
my eyes shut to banish the images of our time together.
I had been a wreck ever since I got her email. Dear Mr
Hale… Like I was some stranger. Like she hadn’t shared her
most horrible thoughts with me. Yes, I deserved that low blow.
Still, it didn’t make it any less painful.
But at least she had received my gift, and I had invested
my money in something good for the first time. Well, except
for the private jet I had bought just for her back then. This
way, we had privacy for the first time.
 It felt like an eternity, another world, had passed since
then. I was a different man, a worse man. And she deserved
better than someone who drank himself to sleep night after
night just to not have to see her anymore. Sienna’s laughter
followed me with every step, and whenever I saw blonde hair
in her shade, I turned around, hoping it was her. Madness, I
know. But I had gone mad; I was fairly certain of that.
I wondered if she had even read my email or if she had
deleted it right away. When I thought about the fact that I had
written it drunk and on the brink of a panic attack, maybe it
was better that way. She would have been disgusted with me,
maybe even more than I was with myself.
With slowed motions, I pulled the thin blanket over my
body and prayed that I could sleep for at least a few hours
before I had to sober up and go to work as if my heart was still
beating.

“G ET UP . N OW ,” someone snarled and pulled at my blanket. I

opened my eyes and immediately regretted it, because at the
foot of the couch stood my mother and judging by the look on
her face, she was about to beat the crap out of me.
She had witnessed my change and had seen me drunk
more often than sober. Every time she visited me, I could see
the disgust in her eyes. Look what you’ve become, she used to
say. You might as well hit the bars with that scum of a father;
he’d be happy to have a drinking buddy. I had always ignored
my mother, but her words were like hot iron in my chest.
Because they were true.
“Go away,” I slurred. It was still far too early, the sun
barely rising. But she didn’t let go of me and with a strong tug,
the blanket landed on the floor.
“I can hardly stand the sight of you, boy. It shames me to
call something like you my son,” she hissed, her East
European accent lingering between her words. I reluctantly
straightened up, still dizzy.
 “Then leave me alone,” I replied in the same tone. Every
time, it was the same with her. She came over, threw a few
words at me and when she saw I didn’t mind, she left.
“I thought I had raised you better,” she said, but I paid her
no more attention as I went to the small dresser and picked out
a fresh shirt.
“Don’t ignore me,” she shouted, crossing her arms. What
did she want me to say? That she was right? That I had failed?
She already knew that; no need to speak it out loud.
“Listen, you’re not making my situation any better. I need
some time alone, and if you don’t leave right now, I’ll have
you escorted out.” Of course I wouldn’t do that, but my thread
of patience was about to snap and I would say things I didn’t
mean.
She snorted. “All because of a girl?” My head shot in her
direction. “I put two and two together. A man only acts like
that when he’s had his heart broken.”
She had no idea. My heart wasn’t just broken, it had been
ripped out of my chest with bare hands.
“It’s none of your business,” I replied curtly, stripping off
my whiskey-stained shirt to put on the other one.
My mother regarded me, her brow furrowed. “Do you
want her back?” I wondered if she was just curious, trying to
help me or adding fuel to the fire. I kept silent, and yet she had
her answer. She considered me for a moment.
“Ask yourself that: before all your filthy money, how
would you have won a woman back?” For my money being so
filthy, she had no trouble spending it, I thought to myself.
“Not at all,” I finally replied and took a sip of water to get
rid of the disgusting taste in my mouth. My mother wrinkled
her nose.
“You’re a fool if you think that.” This was the closest thing
to a compliment she could give. I almost laughed if it had been
funny. “If she’s the one, then throw away the alcohol and fight
for her instead of drowning in self-pity. That’s pathetic and
will send you to your grave sooner than you think.” That
didn’t sound so bad, I thought to myself. Sometimes, I would
consider that salvation.

I T WAS PAST MIDNIGHT , and I was still sitting at my desk. The

small table lamp illuminated the sheet of paper in front of me,
and I was terrified to grab the pen. My fingers trembled at the
thought of not finding the right words, of finding the wrong
ones, of making everything worse.
But could it possibly get any worse, though? I hardly
believed so.
Don’t be a coward, I snarled at myself, it can’t be that
hard. But it was hard. Writing down the most intimate
thoughts was horrifying, and I was on the verge of crumpling
up the paper and throwing it in the bin.
No. If this letter meant that Sienna would forgive me, at
least for a fraction, then I would love to make a fool of myself.
So I started writing.

Sunshine,
I don’t know how to begin this letter, how
to express what I’m feeling.
It has grown dark since you left. More
than you can imagine. You are my first thought
in the morning and my last at night. Even in
my dreams, I hear your laugh and sometimes,
I wish I didn’t wake up at all.
I am sorry for the way things turned out
and I will hate myself for the rest of my life
for causing you pain. I know my actions cannot
 be undone, but I hope that one day, you can
forgive me.
You are the purest soul I have met, and I
was wrong when I said that kindness and
compassion make you weak. You are the stronger
one. I knew it all along.
I hope you’ll get everything you have
dreamed of. Even if it is this hideous idea of
small-town life. You’ll get your picket fence and
a man by your side who will worship you.
But never like I worship you. It almost
hurts. And now I feel your absence with every
step I take. I smell your perfume wherever
I go. And it’s the most beautiful kind of
masochism I know.
If you’ve read this far, I just want to
tell you to come back to me. Fight me, scream
at me, just let me be with you. My soul
already is. Forever.
I love you. Always have, always will,
Nikolai

T HIS WAS the third attempt to put my thoughts on paper, and

still it all felt too…banal. Sighing, I crumpled up the stupid
letter and threw it away. It wouldn’t do any good, I told
myself, massaging my temples.
At the same moment, a notification appeared on my
private phone-an email from Christopher’s solicitor. With
narrowed eyes, I read through the message.
And a tear ran down my cheek.
 41

T he wind blew mercilessly in my face as I hurried across

the driveway with fully packed shopping bags. I had
bought groceries for the entire week, so I didn’t have to
leave the house so often.
My father was getting worse, and sometimes I thought I
would die with him. Not that I showed him, of course. That
would only upset him. And that only meant more work for me;
more sleepless nights, sitting next to his bed and watching
over him.
I put one bag down and unlocked the front door. My
fingers were aching from the heavy bags and I couldn’t wait to
sit down on the couch next to my father and doze off. At least
for a few minutes. I needed a little energy boost before I
started to prepare dinner, otherwise I would surely fall asleep
standing up.
I trudged into the kitchen, the TV far too loud once again. I
had already told my father umpteen times that his eardrums
would soon burst if he continued to turn it up so loud. But he
never listened to me.
I put the bags on the countertop and took out the ice cream
he had asked for yesterday.
“Cookies and cream was even on sale today. I almost
fought with a kid to get the last one,” I shouted over the roar of
the football fans on the TV, a headache slowly brewing
between my temples. Sighing, I grabbed a spoon from the
drawer and made my way to my father.
 He was lying on the couch wrapped in a blanket, asleep as
he almost always was lately.
“Dad, look, ice cream. I got it for you,” I said after turning
down the TV. He had something pressed to his chest, and I
carefully took it from his hand while shaking his shoulder to
wake him up before the ice cream melted.
“Come on, you’ve had enough sleep.” I turned the thing
over and saw that it was a baby picture of me. My father was
holding me, a big grin on his face, and it was strange to see
him so young. “If you don’t wake up, I’ll eat it all by myself,”
I insisted and shook him again. But he still didn’t respond.
I leaned over him, and my heart stopped. The ice cream
fell out of my hand and landed on the floor with a thud,
making the content splash all over my socks.
My father was dead.
 42

“L adies and gentlemen,

W E GATHER HERE TODAY , in this solemn place, to bid farewell

to a cherished soul who has left an indelible mark upon our
lives. As a clergy member, it is my humble duty to offer words
of solace and spiritual guidance as we lay our beloved
Christopher Mayfield to rest.

I N THIS MOMENT of profound loss, let us take a pause and

reflect upon the tapestry of his life—a life that touched so
many hearts, that intertwined with our own, leaving behind
memories that will forever be etched upon the canvas of our
existence.

A S WE GATHER HERE , amidst the serenity of this final resting

place, we honour Christopher’s journey—a journey marked by
both triumphs and challenges, laughter and tears. We are
reminded of the preciousness of life, the fragility of our
existence, and the significance of every fleeting moment we
share.

L ET us draw strength from the knowledge that his spirit lives

on within us. The love shared, the lessons learned—”
I WAS NUMB , my body no longer my own.
A dozen people had gathered in the cemetery, most of
them nameless acquaintances I had never seen before. Only
Ramona and Blair stood by my side as I tried to force the tears
out. But I couldn’t. Since the moment I found my father dead,
I couldn’t cry. Maybe I was too weak. Or a monster. Who
wouldn’t cry at their own father’s funeral?
I pressed my lips into a thin line while the priest spoke his
last words. I had already tuned out halfway through his
speech. No, Christopher Mayfield had not been a good father
and a dedicated community member and no, his life had not
left any extraordinary memories. It was all a farce. He wasn’t
even religious.
Thunder rumbled above us, and I flinched. The sun hadn’t
shown for days. Instead, I was haunted by a constant grey sky
like a ghost from the past.
My thoughts were interrupted when my father’s coffin was
lowered. Why wasn’t I crying now? What was wrong with
me?
The priest said his last prayer, and I was invited to throw
down some soil. With trembling hands, I did as expected of
me and went back to my spot, leaves crunching under my
shoes.
It almost felt like I was floating above myself, watching
me, my skin wrapped in cotton. The voices faded into the
distance and the chill had left my body. What remained was an
empty vessel.
Images of me and my father flashed before my eyes, how
he had waltzed with me in the living room just a few weeks
ago because he would miss my wedding. I remembered how I
had forced him to watch my favourite shows with me even
though he hated them and I remembered how I had fallen
asleep leaning against his shoulder while he stroked my hair.
Beautiful moments.
 Every night before bed he had told me “I love you” and I
had never said it back. And then he died without hearing me
say it one last time.
I sank to the ground and a cry of agony escaped my lips as
I clawed at the dried grass until my nails splintered.
Again and again, I hit the ground, cursing heaven itself, yet
only the same three words came from my lips. I love you, I
love you, I love you. And only when I opened my eyes did I
see the others were long gone.
Except for someone. A man standing off to the side,
wearing a black suit.
He came towards me until he was so close I could smell
his perfume. A scent I could never forget. Even in hell.
“Let’s go home, Sunshine.”
EPILOGUE
 NEXT SUMMER

T he warm summer air blew through the open windows of

our bedroom carrying the scent of roses from the front
yard.
Kids were playing in the distance, laughing at some joke
and I couldn’t help smiling.
It was still early in the morning when I sent my latest
manuscript to my editor, which meant I had the whole day off
to read in the garden.
I stretched, and a yawn escaped my lips. But that quickly
turned into a giggle as Nikolai suddenly tickled me from
behind.
“Stop it,” I said, barely catching my breath, fighting
against his swift fingers. His lips touched my forehead, and I
pulled him closer so he could give me a proper kiss. “Do you
have to go already?” I asked, pouting, and he deepened the
kiss until I was dizzy.
“Yes, but I won’t stay long,” he mumbled against my
mouth. I hated it every time he went to work. Especially when
he looked this good.
Nikolai had moved in with me after my father died, but I
hadn’t been able to live in the much too big house for long.
And one morning, he had brought me food in bed and dangled
two keys in front of me. The house was like something
snatched from my imagination; every detail was perfect. At
first, he hated the peace and fresh air, but suburban life did
him good. I saw it in every smile, every wink. The other day
he had fixed the neighbour’s boy’s bike and although he didn’t
want to admit it, I saw the pride in his eyes.
“Only five more minutes,” I murmured, while I clung to
his biceps as if my life depended on it. Nikolai’s hand went
around my throat, squeezing it lightly.
“Trust me, Sunshine. If I stayed another five minutes, we
wouldn’t get out of bed all day,” he whispered.
“Maybe that’s my plan,” I quipped, and his lips moved to
my collarbone, eliciting a soft moan. I could never get enough
of Nikolai and sometimes I just looked at him and wondered if
he was real.
Without warning, he lifted me from the desk and threw me
onto the bed. The mattress shifted with a squeak and before I
could catch my breath, he was already on top of me, covering
my face in kisses.
“Have I told you how much I love you?” Nikolai asked, as
his hands stroked my hips.
I tapped my chin with my finger. “Hmm, yes.” His lips
moved to my chest.
“But you’re welcome to do it again,” I teased as my
fingers ran through his hair.
“I love you,” he whispered, kissing one breast. “I love
you,” he whispered again, kissing the other one.
Nikolai lifted my long T-shirt, exposing my body.
“I love you.” His mouth tickled my stomach, and I
shuddered. “I love you so much.” Before I could realise, he
had pushed my panties to the side. His tongue touched me in
all the right places and I shifted my hips to give him better
access.
“I love you too,” I breathed as he slid a finger inside me,
curling it at just the right angle and making me moan.
“I’ll never get enough of this,” he murmured as he
devoured me like a starving man. His tongue got greedier, and
I felt the orgasm building deep inside my belly. I needed more,
needed all of him, so I pulled Nikolai up, his lips glistening.
 “Take the suit off. Now.” His crooked smile, the one that
always made me weak, appeared on his beautiful face.
He did as I commanded, and before I knew it, he entered
me with one powerful thrust that made me shudder all over.
And then another. And another. Nikolai claimed me whole,
gripping my hips and looking into my eyes while he fucked
me.
His thumb found my most sensitive spot, swollen from his
tongue.
“Harder,” I breathed, and Nikolai let out a dark chuckle
that pierced my marrow. I felt him twitching inside and knew
that he was close to following me over the edge.
With a quick movement, I pulled his lips to mine, my
tongue caressing his. We melted together, became the same
body. I ran my fingers over his strong back, his defined
muscles and could still hardly believe that he was lying on top
of me right now, pumping in and out of me like it was the last
time.
“Look at you, taking it so well.” That was the only thing I
needed to hear. Those words alone pushed me over the edge,
my walls clenching around him and taking him with me.
A low growl came over his lips as he came deep inside me,
filling me until there was no more room. My cries were stifled
by his kisses while he still moved inside me, his load dripping
out of me. Fuck…
“Don’t you have to go to work?” I purred, and I felt his
smile against my swollen lips.
“My boss is an asshole, but he won’t fire me,” he replied,
and I rolled my eyes. The only thing he had done was move
his business from New York to London.
Eventually, he rose, milky white dripping down him. He
looked at his artwork and I saw the hunger in his eyes, but
before he would truly miss the whole working day, I shooed
him off to the bathroom.
A few moments later, Nikolai came back freshly clothed
and with wet hair, while I had just finished making the bed. He
wrapped his arms around my centre, his stubble tickling my
neck. “I’ll see you later, Sunshine,” he whispered.
Giggling, I pushed him away, but at the last second, he
stole a kiss from me.
“You forgot someone,” I quipped, motioning towards the
doorway where our Labrador was standing, watching us
curiously.
Sighing, he crouched down next to her and gave her a kiss
on the head. “See you later…Prudence,” he said between
gritted teeth. “I still can’t believe you named our dog like
that.” I rolled my eyes because I had already told him a
hundred times that I had adopted her with that name.
Nikolai gave me one last cheeky wink and disappeared
through the door.
My eyes fell on the engagement ring on my finger, the
diamond glittering in the morning sun like a star. I love you.

THE END
 THIS IS NOT THE END

Wicked Mind is the first book in an interconnected trilogy, but

can be read as a standalone. Book two will centre around
Ramona and her brother’s best friend, and book three will be
all about Blair and her stalker.
If you want to know what happened in the time between
Christopher’s death and the epilogue, make sure to subscribe
to my newsletter. I will send out free bonus content!
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 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book was not planned and I am even happier that I got the
chance to write it.
I would like to thank my community on booktok, who
always encourages me to keep writing. Each of your kind
words and wonderful messages means the world to me.
Without you, I wouldn’t be where I am today and Secrets and
Seduction and Wicked Mind wouldn’t exist.
Of course, I would also like to thank my beta readers who
have supported me throughout this journey.
Especially I would like to thank Alicja, Ada, Rakel, Sarah
and Adrita. I have enjoyed every single comment you have
made and have been cheering along with you in every chapter.
Alicja, you saved my ass. Thank you for walking the extra
mile. That means so much to me and I don’t take it for
granted.
Last but not least, I want to thank every person who reads
this book. Without you, I would be nothing.